Get Rid of Johnson Grass

I went out to dig up some raspberries from the swales, in order to transplant them into the greenhouse. With more rain last night, our soil is moist, and the roots come out quite easily.

I pulled some Johnson grass, amazed at the thick, white rootlets, so twisted and invasive. I realized that in the section I've cleaned fairly well, the new blades of grass have their own thick green look, so for each patch, I dug them up and removed all the roots I could see.

While weeding, I was irked to see that the piglets, recently realizing they are small enough to roam, had found my sweet potato slips and systematically dug them up and ate them. We are hoping to have several suckling pig roasts soon. I'm ready. Past ready.

And to round out the animal carnage to plants I want: I went to dig up my aloe plant for the winter and found no sign of it, but a circular patch of dirt where it should have been. Apparently the chickens, housed around that plant, needed something in it. Too bad for them to eat my mother's day present from several years back, though.

I went to weed the greenhouse blackberries, too. I think they had a rough transplant, because the energy in the greenhouse was so high it was burning the plants a bit, but they have adjusted well and have mostly doubled in size since transplanting. And the weeding around the blackberries was very fun. Phil had already run the hoe between the rows, but I pulled little weeds between the plants. There were many volunteer tomato plants, some even with blossoms. The soil in the greenhouse is quite nice.

Phil contacted our soil lab to ask a few questions. Most notably: did we go backwards this year in soil fertility? The answer: no. Our calcium continues to slowly come up, and our ratios are slowly getting more in line. That was encouraging.

I've been thinking lately about how often I grow frustrated by how much wasted time there seems to be. Whether its uncertainty with how best to weed, or frustration with how long simple tasks like moving chickens can be (with the weed load, it took Phil several hours of hard hacking to clear enough of a path to set up the chicken netting in its new place this morning): I grow annoyed so quickly.

But one of the lines our elder used to say was, "Nothing we do for Christ is ever lost or wasted." I think it feels like so many of the tasks I do here are repetitive and will likely prove pointless. But maybe that's not the point. Maybe the point is that I should carry out my tasks with thanksgiving and joy, and do them as to the Lord.

In any case, I'd be happy simply not to have loss or waste!