Spent the afternoon finally attacking the back weeds with the lawnmower. Among those which had taken up residence during last week's monsoon were thistles.
As one with more than a wee drop o' the Gael in the bloodline, I do hae a soft spot in me heart for them. But anyone who's ever seen one knows that they have a kind of weird alien look to them, especially in the early phases when the heavier lower leaves are spreading out, pushing down other plants and choking them off from the sun. The spiky nature of the leaves also makes them look more than a little spooky.
So there's a part of me, deep back in the lizard brain, that's just a touch nervous whenever I ride the mower over them, a part that's not entirely convinced that they're not ducking under the blade so that they can attack from the rear after I pass by. Ridiculous, of course. Impossible. It's never happened.
As far as we know.
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