… she's not coming down 'til it all makes sense again…

Br’er Rabbit


brer-rabbit    I have 4 minutes this morning, onaccounta someone forgot their gym shoes, so I get to run ’em down to the school..

Yesterday was for slaying dragons. The bushy, prickly, thickety, scratchy, pokey, grabby, wrappy, kind of dragon… Giant thicket of briars and bushes and scrub trees and grapevines, oh it’s Bre’r Rabbit paradise, grew up along the pasture fence, and was already threatening to pull the fence apart. Originally, this is my story and I’m sticking to it, originally, there was a patch of milkweed there, which I was allowing to grow what fer feeding the Monarch caterpillars, as an homage to my mom, Patron Saint of the Monarch Butterfly… And also because butterflies are forces for GOOD. So I asked hubs not to mow or weedwack the milkweed patch…

But then a couple scrub trees started growing there amongst the milkweed, and you know what they say about scrub trees, “a stitch in time saves nine”, which means, you should clip ’em when they’re young, when you can just use little pruner shears, because holy mamma, do they get thick and woody and downright TREE-LIKE real fast! And me without a chainsaw!

I was taking a little break from my continued epic battle with the wisteria… (I’m to the point with that where I now realize that it’s gonna take me about 5 years of continued vigilance and hacking and digging and throttling and smothering, to actually beat that thing. It is entrenched.)… so I needed a break, because I was feeling a little tiny bit…sigh… depressed…exhausted…resigned…

Hey wait, NO, I wasn’t taking a break, I was actually dragging a tarp full of wisteria cuttings around back of the pasture, but I was also depressed, exhausted, and resigned.. and I looked at that mess of a thicket and I thought, “Hmmm… I bet I can eradicate THAT thing too, while I’m at it..”  Doesn’t make any sense that I thought that.

I didn’t measure it, but if the whole patch wasn’t at least 10 ft by 20ft I’ll eat my hat. I grabbed the pruners and started slicing and thrashing my way into the heart of the beast, Once inside,  I could see that it was 3 trees growing up and over the fence, plus grapevines appearing from nowhere, JUST OUT OF THE GROUND underneath the trees, reaching up into the branches and over into the fence, all through it, strangling, ripping, pulling… Plus assorted briars and brambles and Virginia Creeper and poison ivy. Let me say this about trees that you’re considering cutting down with a hand-saw: They will always appear to be much more “doable” than they are. Your estimation of your cutting abilities will be HIGHLY overinflated. Your estimation of their GIRTH will be wildly underestimated. This combination will result in much exertion, sweating, gesticulating, and cursing. And giving up. And sitting down. And getting back up and taking another wack at it. More cursing. More sitting. More cutting. it starts to form a pattern and you get in the zone and you just go with it, and at some point you quit believing that you can cut through that tree, but then suddenly the saw lurches through, and the tree falls and you fall the other direction and then you might find yourself on your butt, laughing in a sorta hysterical, involuntary, measurably relieved  way.

In the end, all I could really do was slash the strangling woody vines to free the fence, cut down the trees and let them fall where they may, and then leave the whole steaming mess to dry out in the sunshine.  I’m hoping in a couple weeks to be able to light a match and be done with it.

Some things seem impossible, and so you start to walk past them and hope they’ll go away. That only works for a while, and also tends to allow things to grow even more outta hand. I’ve learned this lesson before, countless times,  I’ve learned it about vegetables rotting in the vegetable drawer, mountains of laundry mildewing in the basement, unpaid wage taxes, and I’ve learned it about people…  I  must really love moving mountains. I sometimes wonder what it must be like to be one of those people who takes care of things when they first come up… who dot their I’s and cross their T’s and cut their lawns in those amazing diagonal cross-hatches.. they dead-head their dahlias, sweep their sidewalks, and prune their apple tree branches BEFORE the fruit grows so heavy it bends and breaks the branch…

But do you know anyone like that who isn’t also a giant anal-retentive MARTHA? Me either…


4 thoughts on “Br’er Rabbit

  1. Oh geeze! I deadhead my roses all the time. Forgive me!

  2. Every time I try to be one of Martha’s minions ~ I get sidetracked with Life itself….and also I have short term memory and dedication skills. LOL

And what about Naomi?

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