Fifty Acres and Fool: More Weeds -- and God

I took a break from farming this weekend -- a combination birthday gift to myself and Mothers Day present for Nancy. We went to southern Indiana to visit some family there. The men-f0lk went golfing (I shot a 97, not bad for my first time this year), the women went shopping, we all went out to eat, and then to a movie. It was a nice relaxing time.

It rained a good bit while we were there. In fact it rained a whole freakin' bunch. Which would have made me feel not so bad for not being homing snuffing out weeds except I checked the weather report which reported that our place, just two "r's" (as they say in southern Indiana) to the north was basking under sunny skies and mild temperatures.

Perfect weed growing weather.

So I fretted a bit -- thinking I should be Round-up-ping the dastardly poke berry and its noxious relatives whose sole evil purpose (other than to survive) was to make my prairie life miserable. I should be home, I thought, removing every stain of weedy sin from the land so that a wonderful crop of WSG and forbs might emerge to the glory of ... well, um, Brent.

During one of my weedy musings, the thought occurred to me that I may care a whole lot more about weeds -- both real and metaphoric -- than God does.

Part of that comes from remembering an old joke about story about a man who bought a farm that was overgrown with bushes and weeds. The place was a mess. But slowly the man began to clear the weeds and bush and turned the farm into a show place -- weed free and verdant. One day the man's minister came to visit, and when he saw the beautiful flowers and plants, he observed, "Well, friend, you and God have done a marvelous job on this garden."

To which the homeowner replied, "You should have seen it when God had it by himself."

I feel that way sometimes. Yep, when God had Ploughshares by himself, he pretty much let it go to seed -- bush honeysuckle seed, poke berry seed, etc. It's taking a lot of work to clear the invasives out and let the good stuff grow. Blood, sweat, and tears -- literally.

And, truth be told, should I stop doing this, then in a few years, the place would be busy and weedy again. And God would not seem to care. Birds would still nest, coyotes would make their dens, deer would tramp down the tall grass for their beds, bees would zoom around the poke berry and bush honeysuckle and iron weed and milkweed and... life would go on. And it would be -- if not aesthetically pleasing as I want -- still good.

And I wondered -- do I worry too much about weeding in my life? Weeding the teeny-tiny sins out? OCD for righteousness?

Some of that nature in me, comes, I know, from growing up in a place where altar calls were not uncommon and guilt was the faith flavor of the day. We were sinners facing the wrath of an -- if not angry -- pretty peeved God. And at 9 and 10 I knew I was sinner and sins that needed to be rooted out like weeds -- even if I couldn't quite figure out what they were. I mean, I was serial smart-ass, not a serial killer.

But it's a tendency that's hard to shake after all these years -- the need for perfection, to root out evil. Even though, when I get to the end of my field and look back and see sin seedlings popping up!

How can that be?

I'm starting to decide that it can be because that's how human life it. We sow good and sometimes weed seeds blow in -- just like on the farm.

And God does not seem to be overly upset with it. From my reading of scripture, that's what grace is all about. It's not by our works (weeding) but by our faith (trusting in God) that we are saved. And by saved I mean become a beautiful garden for God.

So, in an attempt to be less O-Weed-D, I'm not going to spray tonight. I'll let the seeds and tares spring up together.

Tomorrow, though, them weeds better watch out!

-- Brent

Fifty Acres and a Fool: Weeds

Weeds have become my mortal enemy.

This comes as a complete surprise to me. For decades I have been able to gaze upon a field of weeds with absolutely no compunction to do anything about them. Of course, that was before they were my fields and my weeds.

In my pre-weed days, the only weeds I really paid any attention to were dandelions in my suburban lawn. And even then I was far from the herbicidal maniac that the Lawn Nazis around me were.

But times have changed. They began changing when I began my (til now) eight year war with Bush Honeysuckle. Bush Honeysuckle is not technically a weed – it’s an invasive bush. But something that’s growing where I don’t want it growing is – in my agricultural book – a weed. And Bush Honeysuckle fits that description.

For years now I’ve been going into the woods and chainsawing it down, pushing it over with the front loader on the tractor, wrapping chain around it and pulling it out by roots, and, finally, as a last resort, spraying it with herbicide. I am finally turning the tide and now, where there was once nothing but an infestation of Bush Honeysuckle, there are now tree seedlings pushing their way skyward and wildflowers sprouting. Yay! There’s still massive amounts of Bush Honeysuckle to get rid of, but progress is being made.

I hate the stuff. It’s evil. You know it’s evil because it’s soooo pretty at first glance. Broad green leaves, pretty white flowers, yummy looking red berries. The birds and bees and other critters love it. And help it take over.

It always makes me think of what pretty things I let into my life – which then take over. Well, let’s not go there!!

The Bush Honeysuckle is getting a little bit of break right now while I tackle the things most people think of when they think of weeds – dandelion, Canadian thistle, and so forth. I’m battling them now because we just planted 8 acres or so of prairie – warm season grasses (WSG) and wildflowers (forbs – don’t you love the lingo?). And the WSG and forbs will not stand a chance again thistle and burdock and common purslane and hairy nightshade (sounds like a baddie in a cheap detective thriller!) and turf grasses and …

It seems that, as hearty as the prairie once was around here, until we burned it down, plowed it under, and cropped over it, it’s just as hard to reestablish it. I should know, I’ve been trying for six years and have a pretty thin stand of big bluestem and little blue stem for my efforts. The weeds, despite mowing and spraying with prairie stock friendly herbicide, are persistent. They just keep coming back, despite my efforts to eradicate them.

So this year, after doing the planned prairie burn, I decided to replant the whole prairie. I mowed everything level. Then I used a selective herbicide (avoiding the stands of WSG that I wanted keep). Then Dan “Woody” Wood, from Pheasants Forever, came out and helped me replant (actually he did much of the work – I just rode on the back of the seeder and kept the seed stirred and coming out the seeder).

Then I “hit it” (farmer talk) again with a prairie friendly herbicide. Then, after the herbicide did its work, I mowed the few struggling weed-y survivors.

But walking the freshly planted prairie last evening, I noticed a whole “crop” of pokeberry. So tonight, I’ll be walking the prairie in an effort get rid of it.

Field weeds seem to always be popping up in my soul’s field, too. I plant good seed but then, when the seed sprouts, forget to cultivate the seedlings, weed around them, and soon the pretty field is a huge weed patch.

Hmmm, seems Jesus once told a story about sowing seeds and weeds.

Fortunately, as regards the field weeds, a little spot herbicide (and a long walk) and they will be gone and the WSG and forbs will have access to the sunlight and soil nutrients they need. Unfortunately, for my soul, there is no herbicide … it needs constant cultivation by hand.

I need to get to it.

-- Brent

PS Here's Woody planting one of the hillsides. Just slightly dangerous!