For those of you not familiar with Southern vernacular, I'm tired. The above is a "before" shot from last spring, showing the bushes in presentable condition. Yesterday I hacked out 10 prickly bushes, which happened to have fairly shallow,brittle root systems. All the main bodies and roots of the plants are out, but plenty of smaller roots remain to be fished out when I lime, fertilize (we have odd deficiencies- plenty of phosphorus, low on potassium and some micronutrients, plenty of iron and calcium), and double-dig the new bed. Today I started clipping up the bushes for disposal. We can't just burn things like that here in the city. It has to be plastic-bagged and placed on the curb. I couldn't finish the clipping because my hands started hurting, so I went and helped my husband destroy the front yard.
No, we are not putting in a cornfield out front. Husband yearns for grass like they have in his native Plains state of Nebraska. We're starting over. The ground is bare except where some fescue holds on under a tree. We'll lime, seed, fertilize, and see what happens. I know nothing of grass, and don't really care except to pacify any neighborhood requirements (I'd rather grow food), but I did help him rake, pull up, and bag what was out there. Tired. Below is an "after" shot of the bushes. No more blooms, but no more snagging myself on brittle stems trying to reach the tomatoes, either.
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