Every day when Cliff and I take our walk, on the way past the field he planted in grass last fall, he'll say something like this: "I gotta get out here with the hoe and get those dad-gummed broad-leaf weeds."
Three years ago when a late freeze killed most of the alfalfa in this little plot, weeds took over. And although Cliff disked the area repeatedly last summer, we would see big plants waving in the breeze, thumbing their noses at us.
So after planting some trees and tilling the garden this morning, I headed out with my trusty hoe. From where we took our walk, we'd seen perhaps a half-dozen of the big weeds; I figured it wouldn't take long to get rid of them so Cliff could find something new to talk about on our walks.
The trouble is, when I use the hoe to get rid of them, the root is still there to send up another plant. We hate to use a broadleaf weed killer, since we inter-seeded clover there last winter.
It almost makes me want to move to town.