under siege

Rearing Their Ugly Heads

By Shea Andersen, 4-07-06

	Evil lives!

It's like a cruel joke.

Last summer, I was shocked and dismayed to find that Boise, too, had infestations of goatheads. The misery-inducing plant, a native of lower Hell, wreaks havoc on bike tires and dog feet. I resolved to destroy them wherever they appeared.

So imagine my horror when, among other springtime re-appearances around the house -- of lovely apple blossoms and bulbs -- of goatheads. In my very driveway!

Evil never dies, it just takes nasty little wintry catnaps.

So, once again, I suit up in the armor of a pissed-off gardener, gathering my shovels, rakes and hoes, to go after the springtime spread of this most noxious of weeds. Noxious, as in ob-noxious.

I love my compost pile, but it won't see a shred of this plant's waste. The only thing to do, I've resolved, is bag up every last bit of the things that I yank out, and put them in a heavy-duty garbage bag, and throw that into the trash. Don't talk to me about overkill until you've had to walk your bike home from a ride, both tires peppered with goatheads. Don't tell me I'm overreacting until you've seen the look on my dog's face when, in mid-mosey, he puts a paw onto one of the multi-pronged seedheads.

So, it's war. It gives me good reason to get up in the morning these days. Something to stew over, while I'm gazing out at my innocent garden beds.

I envision a world where bike tires roll freely, not in fear of immediate flattening. I dream of a world where dogs and barefoot humans tread not in dread of a nasty tack in the sole. I envision a world free of goatheads.

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