Earlier this spring my back yard was this.
Now, after three weeks of 25 mile per hour, dry, hot wind, it is this:
Our life has become a brown, pointy, tacky, collection of clover burrs. They are everywhere. On the floors, & countertops, in our bed, on the sofa, and deeply embedded in each and every rug I own. I sweep up about a pound a day from the kitchen floor alone. I comb them out of my hair, glean them out of the dryer filter, and flush them from the drains. The cats are covered with burrs, and choose to painstakingly pull each and every one out while on the rug or bed or sofa or kitchen table (while we are gone). Clover burrs are the most invasive little seeds I have ever dealt with.
I would love to place all the blame of the clover burr explosion on someone else. But he tried to warn me to either mow it down in its infant stages or just go ahead and smother it with Round-up before the cute little wee yellow flowers appeared. But I didn’t listen! I thought that glorious, lush green carpet in the back yard was heaven. And in a way it was. Kind of like Vegas. When you are in Vegas there is nowhere else you would rather be. Until you either run out of money or you sober up.
I have sobered up to the fact that clover sucks.© Copyright 2012 Leegay, All rights Reserved. Written For: Truth In Decorating