Tarzan Vines

At last had a day free yesterday to do a bit of work on the backyard, and I’m feeling it this morning: I think I strained a hammy.

Sad, no?

I know when I did it, at least. Well, one of the two times I might have done it. The first could have been when I was yanking a tree out of the ground beside the steps. It wasn’t a huge plant — 3-4 inch radius, max — but it was tough to get out with the wee little handspade I had. Not for the first time I cursed the housing snafu that cost me my many yard implements in the move from Rochester.

The second suspect? The Tarzan vines. The vines here grow like, well, vines. I got to working over by the marsh and found one that was well over an inch thick, choking up a tree. It could literally hold my weight. Got it down, though, and hacked the writhing (not really) thing to pieces. I cannot blame the campus powers for my lack of implements to deal with it, though — we had nothing like it in Rochester.

On the plus side, at the end of the day I cooked outside on our new grill (the old one being lost in that aforementioned housing crunch issue). Chicken fajitas and margaritas. Mmmmmmm…

3 Comments

  1. You didn’t craft the vines into a toy for the Hobbit? I’m disappointed in your woodsmanship.

  2. And I, Mary, was wondering if the vines were poison ivy. They grow to Tarzan dimensions in the southeast, as I’m sure you remember.

  3. Poison Ivy? No. At least, I don’t think so. And as deep as I was caught up in the stuff, I imagine I’d know if it was.

    Speaking of the Hobbit, I ought to post a video of him lately. C-U-T-E.

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