Every year, I do battle with the Bull thistles which invade my lawn and vegetable garden. I am firmly opposed to using any type of chemical warfare, so I engage in hand-to-hand combat with this handy tool from those clever Scandavians at Fiskars. I have pulled over a hundred thistle plants out of the wet spring ground in a single morning - a deeply satisfying activity, often accompanied by a most ungracious and unladylike whoop of victory. The newly displaced young thistles, tap roots and all, are unceremoniously dumped in the "back forty" - the unmowed sections of our property.
My skirmishes with the Bull thistle tend to result in mere pyrrhic victories. More thistles spring up in their place, while the displaced thisles take hold in the tall grasses. There is now a thistle of epic proportions - at least 2 metres high and 1.5 metres across - at the edge of the cut section of the grass. And what a magnificent thistle it is! Its prickly stems and roots give way to delicate purple flowers, rich in a nectar that the goldfinches, butterflies, and other pollinators absolutely love.
So, dear thistle, the symbol of my ancestors, I accept and embrace you in all of your prickly, tenacious glory. Just stay out of my garden, okay?
Tiger Swallowtail
Monarch
Bumblebee moth and Bumblebee
Bumblebees share a table
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Evening visitor
Monday, July 04, 2011
Sunday, July 03, 2011
As Canadian as possible under the circumstances, circa 2011
Canada Day did not find us revelling on Parliament Hill with the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. In quintessentially Canadian fashion, I was plying my nursing skills in an American hospital. And I did so in style.
Pattern: Spring Forward, Knitty Summer 2008
Yarn: Dyeversion Bamboo Sock yarn in Candy Apple Colourway.
Hand knit by yours truly.
I believe I won the Dominion Day Sartorial Throwdown. Take that, Kate!
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