Yesterday, I was helping at my mother’s house with her gardening. We started out just setting a foundation for her new birdbath. A super heavy birdbath. I guess she decided since she was already dirty that she would dig out the vines that had covered the light post. Well, I had put up most of the tools and gone inside to clean up. I looked out the front window and saw my mother digging in the yard. I went out to help, ’cause I was raised right.
About an hour into the ordeal, I was starting to wonder just what kind of Amazonian vine the previous owners had planted. My parents have only been in the new house for a year in a half(they downsized after all the kids had moved out). I finally got the shovel under the large gnarl of roots. And I was pushing, and pulling, and pushing.
And he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house down.
Only for me, the roots won that battle…
They broke the shovel.
The stupid, stubborn roots broke the shovel!!
I had to snap some photos really quickly. Then, it was on. I was determined to get those roots. To rip them out of the ground so fast, they wouldn’t know what hit them!
It didn’t happen to fast, but two hours after we had started, we finished off those roots. They are now all in the trash. My mother is happy that she can plant some pretty flowers with some confidence that those vines won’t grow back again. She had apparently cut them back last summer, but they grew back. Silly plants.