Strength -- enough to build a home. Time -- enough to hold a child. And Love -- enough to break a heart. ( You're right, we don't have to live like they tell us. )
I have large patches at my home. It grows in my orchard. It grows under my borders. It menaces my vegetable patches. It grows with hideous strength and I delight in its destruction. Shovel, spade, pick-axe, and entrenching tool; agricultural herbicide, roller, and vehicle tyre. All are used and have been used on the stuff and there are still patches.
I ... feel ... quite strongly about it...
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As for the young bloke who built that tiny house I enjoyed seeing the process unfold. Yes, we do not have to live as we have been told so the more of these stories the better!
Remember the ending scene in Serenity, when River Tam goes full human weapon on the Reavers? that was me yesterday, covered head to toe in soil, hair standing on end, heaving handfuls of white rhizomes up out of the earth and holding them above my head and cackling insanely. Hate... not quite a strong enough word. It brings home the wickedness of the enemy who sowed tares in the Lord's wheat field.
A nice parallel with the wheat and tares! I think couch grass could be aptly described as 'demon grass'. It is insidious. It finds weak points to infiltrate. It chokes the life out of other things, suffocating and depriving them of their nutrients. Yet it is, so, so satisfying to tear metre long strands out...
I still cannot believe that there are people who purchase seeds to plant it out!
I was seriously gobsmacked, open mouthed with shock, to discover there are people actually selling couch grass seed. And presumably buying it. I mean, shouldn't there be international law or something? Who could possibly be the customers? Comic book supervillains?
Maybe a Bond villain who is some sort of Eco-terrorist. Someone who wants to de-populate the world by producing a mutant couch grass strain that grows a metre a minute. Then unleash it on agricultural land.
Strength -- enough to build a home. Time -- enough to hold a child. And Love -- enough to break a heart. ( You're right, we don't have to live like they tell us. )
I hate couch grass. I truly hates it.
I have large patches at my home. It grows in my orchard. It grows under my borders. It menaces my vegetable patches. It grows with hideous strength and I delight in its destruction. Shovel, spade, pick-axe, and entrenching tool; agricultural herbicide, roller, and vehicle tyre. All are used and have been used on the stuff and there are still patches.
I ... feel ... quite strongly about it...
---------
As for the young bloke who built that tiny house I enjoyed seeing the process unfold. Yes, we do not have to live as we have been told so the more of these stories the better!
Remember the ending scene in Serenity, when River Tam goes full human weapon on the Reavers? that was me yesterday, covered head to toe in soil, hair standing on end, heaving handfuls of white rhizomes up out of the earth and holding them above my head and cackling insanely. Hate... not quite a strong enough word. It brings home the wickedness of the enemy who sowed tares in the Lord's wheat field.
A nice parallel with the wheat and tares! I think couch grass could be aptly described as 'demon grass'. It is insidious. It finds weak points to infiltrate. It chokes the life out of other things, suffocating and depriving them of their nutrients. Yet it is, so, so satisfying to tear metre long strands out...
I still cannot believe that there are people who purchase seeds to plant it out!
I was seriously gobsmacked, open mouthed with shock, to discover there are people actually selling couch grass seed. And presumably buying it. I mean, shouldn't there be international law or something? Who could possibly be the customers? Comic book supervillains?
Maybe a Bond villain who is some sort of Eco-terrorist. Someone who wants to de-populate the world by producing a mutant couch grass strain that grows a metre a minute. Then unleash it on agricultural land.