weed

noun \ˈwēd\

Definition of WEED: a plant that is not valued where it is growing and is usually of vigorous growth; especially : one that tends to overgrow or choke out more desirable plants

After visiting a friend who is in process of embarking upon a small garden, I feel the need to go back and talk a little more about weeds.  I took this picture from her driveway and thought I recognized the vine as bittersweet (which had a choke hold over the porch in our first house).  But I didn't remember the purple and yellow flowers or the red berries produced afterwards.  So I asked my sister, a landscape designer (and overall encyclopedia of information), and she confirmed that this is bittersweet, but more specifically called "nightshade".

Nightshade is an invasive, hard to kill, fast growing vine that really should be completely removed from your yard.  The berries are poisonous to people and animals, and it can grow under vinyl siding, around outdoor wiring, and choke other plants.  I "googled" removal of nightshade to see what the online recommendations are from various garden sites and each one included using an herbicide.  Well, I am still not in favor of using chemicals in your yard, though apparently nightshade is so vigilant nothing short of biochemical warfare will eradicate the plant.  Even so, I do remember that we were able to calm the bittersweet in our first house by removing the plant down to the root to the best of our abilities.  Once in a while we would see a young vine pop up, but we were careful to pull it out right away.

It is important to recognize weeds like nightshade so that you can take proactive measures to control them in your yard.  If it gets as severe as the photo you not only run the risk of losing the desirable plants that may still be living under that mass of vines, but you may lose your vinyl siding, clapboards, outdoor wiring from the street to your house, etc., and the problem will compound as the summer growing season continues.

On the other hand, weeds like milk weed are not so worrisome.  While I do not have any milk weed in my yard, I have seen it in others and realize that they do have value by providing nourishment to butterflies and may be beneficial if you enjoy watching the lovely creatures thrive in your garden.  The photo to the right was taken at a friend's backyard.  There is no landscape plan or garden and I was just looking at the mass of wild plants (mentally planning what I could do with all that space) and was charmed by the butterfly (monarch?) that was working its way through the weeds.

Another weed that I like is the Virginia creeper.  This vine produces dark blue berries and, as I remember, the leaves turn red in the fall.  We had a very small patch of Virginia creeper along a shared fence in our last house in Massachusetts.  I was warned by the neighbor who shared the fence that it was poison ivy and not to touch it.  I saw the five leaves (versus three) and told her it was just Virginia creeper, but she was insistent that she had broken out in a rash after touching it and therefore it was poison ivy.  But, as I have previously mentioned in an earlier post, you can get rashes from all kinds of plants; and though I reassured her several times she was still a non-believer.  Not to say that Virginia creeper is a highly desirable fence vine as you can be sensitive to it and its berries are poisonous to humans, but I liked it and was satisfied that my neighbor was so afraid of it she had no intention of removing it.

In closing, I would just add that weeding is an ongoing activity that cannot be avoided in any garden.  I included Webster's definition of a weed to illustrate that there is no clear answer to the question, "How do I know if it's a weed?" when working in your garden.  I think any plant that causes damage (like the bittersweet) definitely falls into the "weed" category, but other plants such as johnny jump-ups, violets, milk weed, etc, you must use your own definition.  If it impedes your enjoyment of your yard and lawn, well, then pull it.

What to Wear
As I was getting ready to spend all day (a gorgeous summer day expected to be about eighty degrees) outside fixing the esplanade that was partially removed and hastily repaired by road crews that have been working in our neighborhood over the last ten weeks (I originally mentioned my concerns over this work in my April 16th post) I put on my normal gardening outfit; old shirt, weathered jeans, and lawn-mowing sneakers.  It then occurred to me that I should perhaps cover "what to wear" when spending time getting "dirty".

Not much for straw hats, gloves, and knee pads, I usually dress for comfort and discretion when working outside (conscientious of the fact that I will normally end up in several different, unflattering positions).  It may seem too hot in summer to wear jeans, but I find they are good protectors from scratches, bug bites, and any rash-causing plants that I might unwittingly brush up against.  I had the experience in my first garden of spending a Sunday outside trimming and weeding, then realizing at work the next day I had a fiery, itchy rash over the backs of both my legs.  I had an urban yard with no known poison ivy or oak, so I am unsure what may have caused it (my sister did tell me once that interaction with even ordinarily harmless plants can cause a rash as plants, like animals, have defense mechanisms), I only know that it was vastly uncomfortable wearing nylons and skirt at work that week while my rash healed.  Since then, I have made it a rule to wear long pants, despite any heat, while gardening.

Perhaps more important than clothing, is sunscreen.  Sunscreen not only prevents skin cancer and premature aging, but also that not-so-sexy farmer's tan.  I never realize when I'm outside how much sun I truly get until I slip on that swimsuit and view myself (with horror) in the mirror at the tan that ends with my t-shirt sleeves and begins again from the base of my neck up.  Do yourself, and those at the beach who surround you, a favor, use a really good sunscreen when working outside.

Those who are dedicated to working outside even in inclement weather may even want a good pair of rain boots (or "wellies").  I begged for a pair for Christmas a couple of years back, and the better half purchased a traditional green pair from L.L. Bean, which I love because I am a bit of an anglophile.  On rainy days, I even wear them to work to save my good shoes.  And though I usually don't wear gardening gloves (I like the feel of the soil in my hands) I will wear them also in rainy, cold weather to keep my hands warmer or when pruning a thorny shrub.

The Green Door
When we purchased our first home in Massachusetts we were young and a bit naive.  We had read an article in the Boston Globe entitled "Make Your Mansion" and it profiled turn of the century homes that were once-beautiful, now-dilapidated and could be yours for only a few thousand dollars.  It mainly focused on Brockton, MA, which was once a large leather accessories (mostly shoes) manufacturer up until the mid-19th century, but had since seen hard times.  The house pictured accompanying the article was just lovely and had recently sold for $49,900.  We were definitely interested.

The first house the realtor showed us had a saltbox shape and a gambrel roof.  The carriage house in back had been converted into a garage; the doors were loose and the windows broken, but we weren't concerned.  We saw the overgrown shrubs, the peeling wall paper, the non-working toilets, the bags of trash left over from the last owner (it was a foreclosure from a couple years prior) but once we stepped into a dining room with the hardwood floors, oak paneled walls with plate rails, pocketed doors, built in buffet (with a seat on each end), and the terra cotta tiled fireplace, well that was it.  I was all misty-eyed.  The rest of the house could have been blown apart and I wouldn't have cared in the least.  We were buying that house.

It is needless to say, though well loved, that house needed work.  The chimneys needed repointing, the yard needing tending, the windows needed repair, the door needed a lock (as opposed to the 2x4 being used when we purchased), the floor refinishing, etc, etc, etc.  We spent long hours into the night  peeling painted wall paper, repairing horse hair plaster, and learning to do other odd jobs.  Once we had our son, however, the resources of time and money (and the travel to Maine) were wearing thin so we sold after five years and moved to a house that needed far less of us.

But, in that short time, we learned what it meant to truly love an inanimate object; we named our house (because all fancy houses have names) "Chateau D'Embrace", which, to us, meant the "House of Open Arms".  Friends and family were always welcome to come and stay in one of the six bedrooms, though Brockton wasn't exactly a tourism hot spot.  We were lucky to have friends stay over for New Year's a few times and it was rather fun to plan a whole weekend rather than one evening, knowing you had room for everyone willing to make the trek.

Fast forward to our current home and I'm the first to admit, it has not the charm nor character of our first house.  We purchased more because the house was clean and neat with plenty of closets.  We liked the lay out and the proximity to the neighborhood schools but not the shag carpeting nor faux wood paneling that so permeated the 1970s when the house was built.  We've done a decent job adjusting the house to our taste, and even used our first house as inspiration.  We added a plate rail to the dining room, bookshelves and a mantel to the fireplace, and nailed unfinished wooden molding pieces in rectangular shapes to add a bit of detail in the living room before we painted.

The yard, however, is the main character in this urban plot.  I've batted many names around, but any referring to the house seem inappropriate. I thought first about calling it "le Petite Chateau" as an homage to the first "chateau", but dismissed it as not quite fitting. I then thought about calling it "the Jungle" but can't get the images of Upton Sinclair's depressing novel (required high school reading) out of my mind.  So, I think I have finally settled on "The Green Door".

To Thine Own Self

If you have been reading these posts (and, yes, I’m talking to both of you) and you disagree with any of my “insights” into yard maintenance then I say, “good for you!”.  I would never want you to substitute my judgment for yours.  If, for instance, your idea of a dream lawn is a front yard filled with spring blooming yellow flowers only, then, by all means, do just that.  Having a yard that expresses your personality is more important than having someone else’s ideals. If you have the means and opportunity to hire a professional landscape designer, first let me say, I am completely jealous, and secondly, it's still your yard so it's important for you to have a voice in the design and concept.    

We have friends who had a “professional” draw out a plan for their yard that included perennials, trees, and shrubs.  The plan was never put into action as it was an accompaniment to a greater plan for a deck expansion and other work that didn't get to the construction phase.  In looking at the plans, which our friends brought out of retirement when I inquired, I was surprised at the large number of perennials (roughly one hundred or more) that surrounded the entire perimeter of their house.  My surprise was at the fact the designer did not take the personality of our friends in mind.  Our friends rarely have time to maintain their yard as they are often busy with kids, kids’ sports, extended family, and travel.  To plant so many perennials would be requiring them to water, weed, divide, deadhead, etc. during their busiest times of the year.  Perhaps the “professional” was looking for more business down the road, to redesign the yard once everything was overgrown, weedy, and/or dead, or perhaps they had a side business specializing in yard maintenance for which they were drumming up clients.  In either case, it was fortunate that the plan was not put into action as I do not think our friends would have been prepared to provide the care or cost of care that all of those perennials would have required.  Our friends did not ask the relevant questions when the plans had been prepared, so at least in reading this blog, while you may stumble across some piece of advice you do not agree with, you will have begun to think long term versus instant gratification.