My dad told me once that I'd a been a 'hell of an engineer if I could
quit flunking math'. It is true, I sucked at math. At the same
time I am either cursed or blessed by seeing 'engineering' in my head.
Show me the thing, the path, the function and the problem and the solution
just pops in my head. All lined up in a little row. The curse
part is I can't get it out of my head and onto paper. Can't draw a
straight line between two points on a ruler (I even hang wall paper
crooked). I can't put the engineering out through my fingers because
the words aren't quite right.
I may poke fun at the honey in my life but for sure he understands my
babble and word inventions and can follow through with the engineering in my
head. He knows exactly what I mean when I say, "The thingie next to
the what-not over there could be hooked together and use that little doo-hickey
over there to collect sun power for the batt'rey. He knows exactly
what I am saying and soon enough I'll have a home made solar powered
fountain pump.
For the most part I defer to his in-bred upbringing in the garden and
landscape business. I believe him when he says that digging up or
separating roots on peonies in the spring is a bad thing. It is to be
likened to cutting off my arm and wondering why it is bleeding.
But this forest floor thing had me on my knees begging nature for mercy.
I learned that using a roto-tiller on sticker bushes and other invasive
vines was akin to giving new life to thousands more of the pesky weeds.
Every place you chop up a root, a new one grows. Also learned that if
you don't dig up the sod before roto-tilling a row, the grass you didn't dig
up grows bigger and better than before.
I've puzzled through the mysteries of nature, dirt, wind, rain and fire
and about the only thing I can come up with is that Nature has it ALL over
us when it comes to harmonious understanding. I've decided that the
'beating back the forest floor' has become a 25 year ritual that fails to
achieve any of my goals for keeping the yards free of determined and
invasive plant matter.
Mother Nature - I bow to you on humbled knee. I cannot beat you at
your own game. Set. Match.
The honey and I disagree on the proper procedure for taming the forest
floor. He has his way and I have mine. The battle between the
north and south.
The NORTH - his way....
HERE.
The SOUTH - my way.....HERE
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