Thistles!

Early fall mornings are golden as maple syrup sunshine flows slowly over our front lawns, trees and flower beds.  We welcomed a few guests over the weekend and admired the new roofs going up on the office, cabins and showerhouse.  The heritage flower garden needed my attention so I gathered my tools and headed off.  I wanted the old remaining farm equipment from the pond for a flower bed.  Large chunks of lava rocks from that same area worked nicely to form the edge to the bed.  Once equipment and rocks were placed, I shaped the ground around the pieces of rusty equipment and planted daisies, hens and chicks, sunflowers and black-eyed susans.  This second year the perennials were beautiful and I added a few more.  Weeding is a constant demand though.  To my quick observation thistles had dared to invade my oasis!  My anger was quick and that of my grandfather.  Growing up, D.K. took my brother, sister and I  to mend fences on the farm.  I can still feel the hot, searing sun, smell the sweat that soaked his hatband, and hear his rants at finding the tall thistles crowding his crops along the fence.  They were our enemy and we were to never forget this!  Of course, I have not forgotten and I attacked them, careful to pull them out, roots and and all.