Thursday, November 15, 2007

Of Alien Pods

Datura isn't supposed to be able to winter in Wisconsin; my mom is supposed to have to re-plant it each spring. But apparently this particular plant does not know this and instead has taken over the garden spot, requiring significant pruning and cutting, especially in the fall.

This fall, the kids (Allie & Hunter) and I had the luck of visiting over Fall Lawn Work Weekend. So we helped. Me with the Datura, the kids with carrying off sticks and holding bags open for all sort of lawn trash. And we all helped carry freshly cut lumber, on its way to being firewood, to the storage spot by the garage.

But there's no reason not to have fun, right?

The amazingly huge Ace paper lawn bags were too much of a temptation for me -- I had to put Hunter in one.

Putting him in, that was the easy part -- getting him out was completely another thing.

He refused to get out, gripping his hands on the side of the bag. The little stinker even used his teeth to get a bite-hold on the bag when I pried his hands off (prying his hands, by the way, only left me holding his hands with not enough of a grip to lift him, let alone the height required to clear the bag). It was like fighting an alien. Or just another child delivery. *wink* Eventually, I 'won' by gently lowering the bag & he to the ground and using his now-pried hands to slide him out.

He was miffed that I, a girl, could beat him -- so he headed pouting to the house.

Anywho, as I saw it, since the Datura had weathered well in Wisconsin, perhaps it would do so here in Fargo too. I carefully plopped the spiked pods into a plastic bag & took them home. They had opened a bit, as you can see, and looked even more terrifying... Big gaping maws on spiked heads.

We had no idea what to do with the seeds and so we put in the same effort into planting my mom had -- very little. Hubby, during his fall lawn work, took the bag of poisonous pod-life out with him and planted them. Some were simply left on the surface of the ground, others were put in shallow graves, others a bit deeper, and still others sort of strewn about and walked on as he continued to work. (Others take this very seriously and you can read their planting tips; but for me, it's just a lark to see what, if anything, happens.)

Hubby did say that he was aware of being pricked by the pods and started wondering if he was now woozy or otherwise feeling the effects of the poisonous plant. I just mocked him, because he wasn't acting any weirder than usual.

(It's not that I don't care about the possible problems, but that I handled them myself and other than washing afterwards, not touching my eyes or any of the simple common sense things, why worry so much? Though if he had suddenly acted nuts or sick, we would have known what to tell the doctors. Anyway, no harm; no foul.)

I would say that I helped my folks with their fall lawn care and all I got were these alien-looking seed pods, but that's not exactly true now, is it -- I have plenty of stories and memories. *wink*

Even if I never get a Detura to grow.

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