All I want for Christmas...

... is a swimming pool full of RoundUp and a giant firehose with which to apply it.

Okay, it's been a week, and the weeds are threatening to overthrow my little fiefdom. Amazing how fast those things grow, if it were bottleable it would certainly be illegal in most major sporting events (not that THAT stops anyone). Those among you who really know me will find it hysterically funny that while I am in theory gainfully employed by lots of people who are certifiably plant-brilliant, I am basically useless in a garden. Yes, I have heard for many years the word 'invasive' used in professional contexts, but it wasn't until today - when I tried to pull out with my bare hands god-only-knows-what-kind of vicious grass that I swear grew overnight in a gravel path - that I truly appreciated the meaning. 30 minutes later I had barely made a dent, except in the rocks in the path!

Oh, my. It is a good stress reliever, though - yanking out weeds with bare hands. At least I think they're weeds. Oh, my. A bit of good gardening advice probably in order; thankfully the masses of friends-who-know-green-things are about to descend.

And for those of you "who know sumthin' 'bout plants" coming still to visit this fall, or - more importantly in Spring -- remember that I am nothing if not a gracious hostess; please be so kind as to forward your glove size in advance so I can purchase appropriate gardening accoutrements for you ... !