Unpleasant discoveries

Sometimes it seems we’re living in paradise here in our new home. We simply couldn’t be happier.

But paradise, as should abundantly clear, doesn’t exist on this earth. This was brought home by the unpleasant discovery of two nasty weeds.

The first is Common Hound’s Tongue. I’d never seen this branched piece of woe before, and at first it seemed charming: a tall stately plant with delicate flowers.

But then it formed its seeds, and let me tell you, they’re nasty. My reference book “Northwest Weeds”…

…describes the seeds as “four nutlets having short multi-hooked bristles,” and that’s putting it mildly.

Look at this monster:

Each cluster of “nutlets” has its own built-in spike. Can’t you see this getting tangled in dog fur?

We’ve seen small quantities of hound’s tongue growing in our pasture (as well as alongside the road), and we’ll start yanking it out by the roots from now on, now that we know what it is.

I made the second discovery a few days ago when I spotted something so distressing that it literally stopped me in my tracks and I groaned out loud: star thistle.

This invasive weed has taken over vast swaths of California and Oregon. For the first 17 years we lived at our old place in Idaho, we rejoiced that we never saw so much as a single thorn of star thistle. To see it here was dismaying beyond words.

But there’s hope. What I spotted were some isolated plants by the side of the road. I plucked every last plant out (“Die, suckers, die!”) and will continue to do so as we spot them.

If we see star thistle sprouting in our pasture, we won’t hesitate to use herbicides to control it. Normally I prefer to take an organic approach to homesteading, but star thistle is nothing to mess around with.

On a happier note, a few days ago I spotted yet another invasive weed, but this one made me smile: Queen Anne’s lace (wild carrot). I hadn’t seen this since I was a child in western New York State, where it grew abundantly in roadsides. I’ve always loved it.

When the girls were young, I used to read them a poem called Queen Anne’s Lace by Mary Leslie Newton:

Queen Anne, Queen Anne, has washed her lace
(She chose a summer day)
And hung it in a grassy place
To whiten, if it may.

Queen Anne, Queen Anne, has left it there,
And slept the dewy night;
Then waked, to find the sunshine fair,
And all the meadows white.

Queen Anne, Queen Anne, is dead and gone
(She died a summer’s day),
But left her lace to whiten on
Each weed-entangled way!

Queen Anne’s lace is just as invasive a species as hound’s tongue or star thistle, but tough patooties. I’m delighted to see it.