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In which not everything that is purple rocks

I used to really love morning glories.

They really are quite beautiful with their heart shaped leaves and purple trumpet shaped flowers.

But then one morning, you look out and realize that all the black-eyed Susans, purple coneflowers, and bee balm that you planted along the front of the deck are nowhere to be seen. There’s only a massive wall of morning glories.

And you look along the side of the deck. Wasn’t there a viburnum there? And a butterfly bush? All you see is a mass of morning glories.

That’s when you realize that the morning glory is one of those plants. The plants that try to take over the world.

So you put on your jacket and boots and head out with your pruning shears and gloves. You don’t have any yard waste bags so you plan to just use regular paper bags from the grocery store.

You start cutting. And cutting. And cutting.

You soon realize that the paper grocery bags are a farce. You just toss the vines in a pile.

You keep cutting and barely notice when it starts to rain.

You cut and pull vines out by the roots and disentangle vines from branches. It’s starting to rain harder now. Your glasses start to fog up.

You don’t care. You’re on a mission.

The morning glories must go.

It starts to rain harder.

You hate morning glories.

You finally finish pulling as many vines as you can find and carry armloads of vines to the curb. When you’re finished, there is a pile approximately one cubic yard in size. 27 cubic feet.

Paper grocery bags indeed. Ha!

You go inside, wonder how you got mud on your face, and curse the knowledge that you’ll have to pull out hundreds of smug little seedlings in the spring.

Or maybe that’s just me.