My Yard: The Invasive Plant Capital Of The World

I personally find that photos of people, animals, flowers, and things like parks and rivers are the most interesting photos of all. I do love a good picture of food. Pictures of buildings can be fascinating too, if done right, and several bloggers I know definitely do them right. (Steve and Mitchell, I am looking at you. Or rather, your photos.) But pictures like the one above? 
Nah. What the hell IS that? I'll tell you what it is- it's a dead tree that fell over into our driveway. It was on the edge of our property, abutting the church's property next door. That whole border is now a huge tangle of wild grape vines. I think they're wild grape vines. They could be something related to grape vines called porcelain berry. Whatever they are, they have taken over that portion of the yard, climbing trees and cutting off growth just like kudzu does and yes, IT IS ANOTHER INVASIVE PLANT! 
Fuck me. 
So those vines pulled that tree over and I heard something that sounded more like a gunshot than anything but I didn't go look to see what it was because there are occasionally gunshots heard around here. I have a neighbor who likes to target practice, for instance. But this was just one very loud POP! Also, we're so near the railroad track and things happen on the railroad track in the name of repair and rebuilding that make a hell of a lot of noise. And there's always the back-firing of a car which also happens. 
So. Yeah. Whatever. 
But when I went outside, the first thing I noticed was that there seemed to be a lot more sky in that border of overgrown vines and trees and it was only then that I realized what had happened. 

Quite possibly I am not the most observant person in the world. 
That was a big ass tree. It's going to take a lot of chain sawing to get it into pieces that can be dealt with. This, thankfully, is not my job. 
I sent Mr. Moon these two pictures and he replied, "Oh hell."

That represents a whole lot of work right there. Hot, heavy work. Not a fun job at all. 

Perhaps I can persuade Glen to call in some help. I surely hope so. 

After I'd checked the situation out, I proceeded to do what I had planned to do which was to deal with some of the crap going on by the fence in the front yard. I'd noticed that there was some giant weed-looking plant growing up out of the azaleas which was not an azalea. I've been meaning to check it out and I finally did today, realizing that there was more than one. And the one in the azaleas was too deeply rooted for me to dig up. So I cut it down to the ground with my big pruners but in order to do that, I had to clear out some crocosmia which was covering up the base of the plant with its thick overgrowth. This is what the bed of crocosmia looks like out there. 

Remember when I "cleared out" that entire area last winter?
So. What was the giant weed? A camphor tree. And here's what the University of Florida Gardening Solutions website says about camphors:

"Camphor tree is an invasive species in North and Central Florida. Native to China and Japan, Cinnamomum camphora is easily recognizable by the smell of camphor."

But of course! 

I pulled the rest of the camphors I found, along with some of the Japanese rice paper plant I have been fighting for years which, at one point, was the main invasive plant taking over that area. Then I pulled up some sort of nut-trees, I think, in a related section. I had to dig those up. I did this by jumping up on the shovel, holding on to the fence with one hand, the shovel handle with the other, and rocking side-to-side, all the while thinking how funny it would be if I suddenly just fell over, shovel still gripped in my hand. 
Not really that funny but anyone watching me would have laughed. It would have been impossible not to. 
I did not fall over. 

I then proceeded to cut back some of the horrible thorn vines which also grip and climb and trail all over the same space. Here's what AI says about them: 

"There is a native green vine with thorns that grows in the Florida panhandle known as  green briar (Smilax). It can be a horrible plant. Vines growing everywhere, thorns tearing at your skin and cutting your clothes."

I would call that an accurate description. It, too, is invasive. I am wearing band-aids as we speak. 

It rained when I'd been working for about an hour which I took to be a sign I needed a break and when it stopped raining, I went back outside for about another hour, pulling more of the nut trees, the crocosmia, the Japanese rice paper plant, the Smilax. What fun! 
Oh, you know me. I sort of love that shit. Although it really is too hot to enjoy it thoroughly. I had hoped the rain would cool things off but it only created more of a sauna atmosphere as the water evaporated due to the now-shining sun and resulting heat. 

I wonder if I could get a job with the state of Florida, working for the tourist bureau. I have a knack for making the state sound so inviting, don't I? 

Last night's supper was so perfect I'm going to do it again tonight. The salad I made with one of Vergil's mother's tomatoes and arugula and different basils from the garden along with some goat cheese because I have no mozzarella, was just about the best thing I've ever eaten. I've already been out to the garden to pick Thai basil, Mexican basil, African basil, and plain old Genovese basil which is actually not growing in the garden but in that bucket I found at the dump with holes already thoughtfully punched in the bottom for drainage. 

Also arugula and I have to plant more of that because it's time. At least by my accounting. 
The zipper peas are starting to ripen in the garden and I have picked a very few of those but there will be more. 

I intend to shell and cook the tiny amount I have and add those into the rest of the coconut rice with chicken. Heaven. 

I've also taken the trash today, speaking of the dump, and watered the porch plants. I've dug and I've pulled and I've balanced on a shovel. I've gotten rain-soaked and sweat-soaked. Hell, I even scrubbed toilets. 

Yes. I earned my salt today. 

I do so love that feeling. 
When I was in the garden surveying the zipper peas, plucking basils and arugula, picking a pepper here, a few cherry tomatoes there, and a a couple of tomatoes just showing color, I was overwhelmed with that feeling which only comes over me in my garden. A feeling I can barely understand, much less describe, but it feels a lot like contentment with some pure happiness thrown in for good measure.

Bed, too, will feel good tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon