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One of the chief delights of having a scatter-shot mind is that there’s no telling what might it might hit upon next.   To wit, for some reason a line of Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing just popped into my thoughts: “Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humor?”

I just love that image “paper bullets of the brain.”  Don’t you?

Ol’ Will certainly could hit some nifties.

Yesterday afternoon marked the first foray of ol’ Robbo into what he half-humorously calls his “garden” this year.

Regular port-swillers may recall that last fall I was making big plans for a total overhaul of the plot, including the pulling of everything currently in it; the construction of new, raised beds; the installation of soak hoses; and a new wiring of the perimeter to keep out the deer, rabbits and woodchucks.

Well, who did I think I was kidding?

The truth of the matter is that I have neither the time nor the energy nor the dosh for such ambitions (as I suppose I really knew back then anyway).  So instead of overseeing the delivery of railroad ties and fresh topsoil/compost to a scrubbed, clean, newly-bare enclosure, the opening day of this season’s campaign found me trudging out to the same old stubble, preparing once again to deal with the same old issues.

First and foremost on my list this year is the eradication (or at least the severe check) of the Konglings, which in weakness I allowed to run riot last year.   For those of you who may have forgotten, the Konglings are the progeny of Kong the Buddleia, the butterfly bush that I started from seed under the basement light six or seven years ago and which now regularly grows 12 feet across and 10 feet high.  It started reproducing in earnest about three years ago and its offspring are Legion.   Because I decided “just to see what would happen”, about a dozen of them took firm root last season, growing to five or six feet themselves and choking out everything else anywhere near them.

Thus, yesterday found me with clippers and spade, cutting off branches and digging up roots.  By the time I got done, I looked like I was just back from a spell in the trenches.  On the one hand, I know that I did not get everything out, so I am going to have to be ceaselessly vigilant against the Konglings’ reappearance.  On the other hand, I certainly dealt them a nasty knock.  Furthermore, it was most gratifying to get dirty again and to get that first whiff of what Legolas called “the green smell”.

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