Tuesday, 3 August 2010

Tumble weed, bindweed

I can't keep up with myself. My desk has 8 heaps all requiring attention, which they are getting, it's true, but other things are falling by the wayside.
I know this, but I'm not sure I like having it rubbed in my face. So when I went into the polytunnel this evening to pick shallots, courgettes, french beans and corn cobs to go with the supper of salmon fishcakes, I did a comedy doubletake when the rakes and hoes caught my eye.
Spiralling round them in a romp of green is a bindweed that should be nicknamed Prefect or Jobsworth, perhaps Tattletale or Longbacon. So I've been told, proper. Nature is turning against me; I've had a yellow card wagged under my nose.
I stuffed my colander with the vegetable goodies and ran into the house. If the triffids invade, I'll only have myself to blame.


Yorkshire Pudding said...

That bindweed is a sod isn't it? It creeps up other plants and threatens to strangle them. I'm always fighting back against the stuff. God must have come up with the idea one morning when he was hungover - along with nipples for men, garden slugs, "The X Factor", dark chocolate and The Conservative Party.

Mopsa said...

Nice flowers tho...and I think you've just conclusively proved that there is no god... (actually, I love dark chocolate)

mountainear said...

Lovely flowers are its only redeeming feature.

If you're not 'agin' it, you could always give the foliage of the ones going up the rakes and hoes a squirt of something systemic and lethal. (Round here they advocate letting bindweed grow up a cane and doing just that.) You'll never win though!

Mopsa said...

M'ear - Nah - very much agin it - it's elbow grease round here (or great lack of!). No toxic nasties in my polytunnel now it's full of veg!