Adventures in Gardening

I should have taken photos, the blogger’s lament.

Promise, I will.

I cleared an area that will be dedicated to, probably, blueberries. Huge honeysuckles dominated it, and I cut them out with a chainsaw and a great pair of shears (borrowed).

In the course of it, I considered a few times how I was going to convert it to a planting bed. My consideration was interrupted by a spitting llama more than once, poison ivy about as many times, and the piano teacher twice (in and out). I’m happy to say: the llama was not injured, my poison ivy is remarkably limited to a small patch on my hand, and my son’s piano teacher will be back despite my language and appearance.

The fact about the llama is most striking, of course. It seems that the llama, Lilly, was very interested in my doings, especially after I lit the fire to burn all the brush. Of course you know, that honeysuckle is an impossible bush to do anything with, angular and stringy. I decided to burn the proceeds of my lopping/sawing close to the location, which also happened to be within 10′ of the fence Lilly and I, and all the rest of the neighbor animals, share.

Lilly is a special sort of creature. When we moved here, the llamas were very interested in our dogs, but not so much us, or seemingly; the donkey and the zebra were much more interested, and probably shooed them off. Just a few weeks into our residence, Lilly gave birth, and Willy, the kria, has been her constant companion. She’s got, immediately, a little edgy, protective, and rightly so I’m sure. So much so that she made, for a while, the area on my fence almost impassible with llama spit.

I buttered her up with hay, and we’ve been OK since, but this fire, well, fired her up. She saw it and did the Dr. Seuss llama run over to see what was going on. From about 200′ away. If you’ve never seen a llama run, you should find some in your area or check out youtube, because it’s an interesting experience.

Arriving on the scene, Lilly looked at the fire, she wasn’t happy, stamped; she looked at me. Smoke went in her face. Her ears, as Lilly’s do, went back. Lilly’s a llama that has a perpetual scowl, when she realizes you’re looking at her. It’s her way of getting something out of you.

Then Lilly passed out. Bamm. No kidding. I thought the damn llama had a heart attack. I did, honestly, feel terrible for a second. Then Lilly got a breath of air not in the smoke, and got up. I said “oh, my God, thank you.”

Lilly looked right at me, tilted her head up a bit, and projected a cloud of spit. I’m sure Lilly had taken account of the thermal properties of the fire between us, because, had she not, it would have sailed over me and settled elsewhere. Damn Lilly.

Unfortunately, Lilly was now on guard. It actually took a lot longer than necessary to clear that area. Lilly continued, whenever the fire got smoky, which was often because the fire was made up of green honeysuckles in an open pit, run over and repeat the “hustle, breath, pass out, spit” procedure. Honestly, she was so accurate that when she hit the ground, I waited until she got her footing and dodged. I got hit twice, but 1st stomach bile, but she dug deep a few times. Llamas have multiple stomachs, and use spit as their main defense. You can tell when they’re getting bile from a lower stomach by the way they work their neck; get hit by a deep one, and I assume it’s like tear gas. Lilly, fortunately, would hit the ground and spit immediately, without resorting to “cocking” the spittle, but she would immediately assume that position, which kept me away from the fence until she found a better way to focus her aggression, or cleared her head.

She’s since chilled out, thankfully, because I didn’t want our relationship to regress to just after Willy’s birth. I got it all burned, and she actually stopped the passing out bit, too. What is funny is that none of the other 6 llamas had any ill will towards the fire, and never exhibited the same behavior, but were curious enough to come see what I was up to.

So now I have a bunch of lopped off honeysuckle. There are a few options for eradicating it, none of which are all that easy. You can immediately treat it with Roundup, which I was reluctant to do at the time. I didn’t realize that my decision was “final”, though, but it is. The stumps must immediately be treated (within a couple of minutes) or the wound is healed. Remarkable, but true.

The other option is burning, which is OK by me, but with this many stumps, I’d be amazed if I’d accomplished the task without some really strange luck.

I settled in, after I’d learned this, to dig them out. Then, lo-an-behold, I discovered the honeysuckle popper. I’ve been anxiously awaiting it all week, and it was delivered to my office this morning. I actually spent my lunchtime attacking some honeysuckle in a local park, and I can’t tell you how impressed I am. As soon as I got home, I hit one of the larger crowns with it, and finished it off in just minutes. It works, and great.

Pictures to follow. I have some work to do tomorrow, but it’s going to be a whole lot easier and more productive than I though, I bet.

Have fun.