Monday, July 17, 2023

My life has devolved into a battle against the driveway weeds

I don't water our lawn, so I don't feel bad when it starts to turn a brownish green about this time every summer.

I'm also not too put out by the honeysuckle that grows unimpeded along the fence and threatens to claim our entire property if left unchecked.

There is, however, one plant I cannot stand. I don't know its name, and I don't actually care.

All I know is I want it dead.

I'm referring to the insidious weeds that somehow manage to take root in the cracks of our driveway then proceed to grow like...well, like weeds.

Each year I wage a battle against these little green monsters that inevitably ends in my favor, but not before much weeping and gnashing of teeth (on my part, not the weeds').

I don't know why these small botanical devils enrage me so much, but I can't stand it when they make their first appearance in mid-spring. I get even madder when I pull or spray them and they pop right back up less than a month later.

Just die already, demon plants.

If only I felt half as much enmity toward the weeds that grow in our flower beds. Our yard would win awards if I hated them the way I hate the driveway weeds.

I think it has something to do with the fact that the driveway didn't ask for any of this. The lawn is fair game because it's several hundred square feet of plant material that understands its position in life. It knows weeds are part of the deal when you're a large blob of sod. 

But the driveway? The driveway is a dozen or so innocent concrete squares that know little of plants and care even less. Its only job is to convey our cars smoothly onto and off of the road, and it does this beautifully.

Then suddenly weeds burst onto the scene and ruin everything for the poor driveway. They have the audacity to grow from cracks a fraction of an inch across. They besmirch an otherwise pleasantly gray expanse running up to your garage or alongside your house. They are an eyesore that refuses to go away without the application of brute force or copious amounts of Round-Up.

I have a grudging respect for their staying power and tenacity, but that does nothing to reduce my desire to kill them.

Of all the things that threaten our society today, driveway weeds are among the least regarded and therefore among the most deceivingly dangerous. Ignore them at your own peril.

Now, I will freely admit this is not the sentiment of, say, a 25-year-old single person.  This is the way a grumpy 53-year-old homeowner thinks and the way he blows a relatively minor irritant all out of proportion.

But I'm telling you, don't sleep on the driveway weeds. They're crafty. They're relentless. They have no qualms about making your life a landscaping hell.

Death is too good for them, but I will nonetheless deliver them there with a small pointed shovel in my hand and a smile on my face.

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