War of the Lilacs

Well, the ache has at last faded from my shoulders, arms, back, hands, and hamstrings. This past weekend, M and I engaged in the War of the Lilacs.

One of the previous owners of our house had planted lilacs and then done absolutely nothing with them. This was also true of the next few owners, until, by the time we bought the house, the plant had gone completely hogwild. In fact, I didn’t even realize they were lilacs—they’d gone so wild they didn’t flower anymore—until one of my halfhearted attempts to clear them made the plant send up a “peace bloom.” Which was really annoying, considering I’d wasted a whole day and several layers of my skin trying to get the dang things out.

Enough was enough, and we finally cleared the plant out and took back our yard.

We battled roots thicker than our arms (Sirius helped, of course!), but at last:


Victory!!

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