Invasive plants and learning to be ruthless.

Invasive plants. Sometimes, I have choose  them, because they have properties I like. I always think I can contain them, but they require a vigilance that only Mother Nature can provide. Their roots contained are always pushing the container to the breaking point. And if they can't break it, they just  take a toe, or a foot, or hand and squeeze themselves out just enough to make contact. And then before I  know it they have rooted in places and taken over. They strangle anything else I was hoping to grow. And the only way to get rid of them is to rip them out of the ground.  I might want to scorch the earth they walked upon, because being anything less than ruthless with an invasive plant  leads me back to facing their rudeness, their greediness, their ability to take up the ground where I might grow some other plant that also has properties I admire or need. 

Mint is an invasive plant. I love the cool fresh smell of it and the ability to make tea with it. And I refuse to be nice to it any more. I rip it out and plant in its place something else. I hope to give that new plant a head start on the mint, though the little feet of the mint may have remained. I pluck it out at every opportunity, because the new plants can't grow in its place. Without such ruthlessness, no other plant can grow. Mint is a rude, invasive and pushy herb. It wants it's way, which to me is to take over my garden. Nothing else will grow if mint has it's way. It knows no other way.  

There are many invasive plants. I have had success in training some to their space, by ripping them out of the area of another plant. Always, I must be ruthless in pruning invasive plants. They are indifferent to nice. They think everything belongs to them. And I remind them that on this little patch of ground, they shall keep their phalanges to themselves or be ripped out again and again and again. I show no mercy, because keeping them out of mercy or niceness shows them hope of invasion. And honestly, I need space for other plants to grow.

Trust Yourself? Why not?

I've learned a few things from being on the farm.  For example, Basil.

Basil is a fantastic herb.  I usually plant it from seed, because I think that is the hip thing to do.  After careful observation and experience, I have been able to discern the true leaves, not just that first set that grows.  Inexperienced hip urban farmers, might think,  Oh wow, Basil! Not yet grasshopper.

 And once those true leaves start to sprout, that's when you can try a little spritz of fertilizer.  And then I watch it grow; I wait to see what it's going to do after I've done my part. Hopefully, that little basil plant will really stretch itself toward the grow light and get too big for the indoor greenhouse.

 And you might think, Oh wow! I can plant this in the ground now.  Nope!  Not yet, little one.  


 Now is the time I show that plant the real light- the SUN and the outdoors. . . but only a little at a time.  this process is called hardening off.  This makes those seedlings strong.  I'm not gonna be out there to protect that plant from the bugs and microbes and whatever else Mother Nature brings once I plant it in the dirt. These seedlings must learn to get tough for the big bad and good microbial world.

 And then, once this is done and after careful observation, I just gotta decide to let those seedlings get their little feet or roots in the soil and play with the big boys.

But how do I know if they will be okay, you ask.  

Well, maybe they will, maybe they won't.  I do trust in my experience- years of observing seedlings and learning from my mistakes.  And in addition, I read, read, read about growing basil  and any other plant I want to grow.  I learn what that seedling will need.  And I trust in my ability to learn, change and adapt.

So go on . . . Trust yourself. Learn, Change, Adapt.  It is the hip thing to do.