It’s a Jungle Out There

Our dear friend the ragweed

Our dear friend the ragweed

September 26 – After looking back at one of my recent posts, I thought you might be wondering why we call part of our farm the “jungle area.” When we first moved here sixteen years ago, I would walk or drive past that section and notice how it differed from our lawn up the road. At that time we didn’t own it, but I wished I could clean it up. Several years later, the neighbor who owned it moved away and asked us if we would like to buy five acres from our south fence towards her house. Yes, we would!

For the first three or four years after that, I would go down several times in the summer and fall and cut down all of the very tall ragweeds, small bushes, etc. leaving the piece looking pretty nice. Those weeds were so high that when I got down on the ground to cut them, I couldn’t even see the top.

Oh, well. I distinctly remember complaining that the Pennsylvania snow plows didn’t plow our school driveway very often, and when I had to park at the top of the hill and walk to the school at the bottom, the snow would be above my knees. Dear son David remarked with a smile, “Well, Mom, snow wouldn’t have to be very deep to be above YOUR knees!

So, here in Missouri, I finally got a little smarter and told Dale that I was going to mow the area and keep those bothersome things from getting tall enough to cut down. Ever since, that piece of “jungle” land has been one of my favorite places on the farm. – CHRIS

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