I am so tired that I don't even think I can be funny about its removal. My arms are so sore that I'm surprised I can reach the keyboard. The only good thing about the whole experience is that I had the foresight to ask the boy to help me with the whole situation. Otherwise I'm sure that "it" would still be standing and I would be a hell of a lot more frustrated.
I originally sent the boy into the back yard with branch clippers to trim back the neighbor's trees that were growing into my back yard while I set out to pull weeds and the thing in the front yard.
I didn't get far.
Apparently if you let weeds live so long, they turn into stubborn little suckers that can not be removed, even if one grabs the weed as close to the root as possible and leans all her weight backwards to let gravity do the work.
As a bonus, I sure felt like I didn't weigh much after this experiment.
I got some weeds up, and marked the "stubborn" ones for removal when the boy was finished with the backyard. Then I turned my attention to "it." Around the perimeter of it, there were several new shoots. They were easy to remove so I got a bit cocky. When I got to the middle of the thing, the shoots were about an inch or so in diameter. Yeah - not so easy to remove.
So I edged my walkway and the front of my yard while I waited for the boy.
When the boy joined me up front, he had much more success with the weeds and "it" than I did. And as he pulled the larger stalks of it, we noticed that the roots were tubers. Curiouser and curiouser. Well, at least the answer to why the thing reappeared this year is solved. The boy suggested that they might be edible. Neither of us tried them.
I had the momentary concern that we were killing the tulips. But in the end, the boy convinced me that we can always plant more tulips. It would be worth it to get rid of the monstrosity. As it is, I don't think we got all the roots, (despite our best efforts) so I'll keep an eye out next year for shoots.
They were HEAVY. I can't stress that enough. What with the stalks being so tall, and the roots being so big, the uprooted things weighed at least 3-5lbs each.
As we were pulling "it" up, my neighbor emerged on his way to dinner. "Pulling up the mystery bush?" is what he asked.
Several responses went through my mind, but I contented myself with "Yep." It seemed safer that way.
He looked around the lawn at the weeds that had been uprooted and the thing that was in the process of being demolished, laughed and said, "You know, you should probably have done this at the beginning of the season instead of at the end."
Oh, hold me back.
We laughed and I promised to get him out there with me earlier next year. I don't think that's quite what he intended me to say.
You know, yard work when renting is a funny thing. I mean, it's not my house, so I don't really care. But I do want to be able to enjoy my lawn, and the weeds keep me from doing so. But lawn care = no fun. So it's an interesting position to be in. In the end I decided that I would be better in a home with grass and little to no landscaping. Let's be honest - I'm no green thumb, so the less I have to do to keep the lawn looking decent the better. But then again, I can't bring myself to uproot the bush that grows the pretty pink flowers. (We did trim it, though.)
After the weeds and it were pulled, I figured that since it was my house, I would release the boy from his obligation.
"Thanks for your help. All I have left to do is drag this stuff back to the discard pile out back. You can go ahead and go in if you want. I'll join you when I'm done."
I'm not going to lie. I fully expected a "It's no problem. I'll help you drag this stuff out back."
Instead I got an "Okay. See you in a bit for dinner."*
Which accounts for the achy arms today. I guess I deserved that.
*The boy would like me to tell you that he did give me a massage when I got inside, and he did have dinner ready and waiting.**
**The author of this blog would like to tell you that dinner was delivered pizza.***
***The boy would like to note that he paid for said pizza AND left the leftovers at the blog author's house.