Yesterday, I decided to tackle pruning my biggest rose bush.
Wonder if I can actually call it that??
I mean, the thing is more like a Giant Squid
with 12 foot long tentacles clad in razor wire.
The variety??
Can't remember.
I think it might be something like "Sid Vicious"(?)
Armed only with a pair of old goat hoof trimmers,
I dressed up to do battle.
It was somewhere near High Noon
as I donned my heaviest blanket-cloth coat,
a thick wool hat and some gloves
in preparation for the showdown.
Got cut up all to shreds.
Flayed alive, so to speak,
until I felt like Laocoon being
attacked and devoured by evil sea serpents.
Man, the thing was absolutely unmerciful,
grabbing at me from every angle
as I got down underneath it to cut out
all the dead parts.
At one point, it even managed to attach a cane
onto my head --
wrapped itself over the top of my hat
and then grabbed me by one ear.
eeeeekkkk!!!
BTW, you know that punishment...
You know .... being "caned".
They got that all wrong.
It has *nothing* to do with being
smacked with a measily little walking stick.
Hell no!!
It's about being viciously lacerated by rose canes.
It's just one step shy of being crucified with spikes.
Worst thing is that what can you do, eh?
It grabs you and sticks you really bad.
You scream at it to let go.
It doesn't listen.
Go ahead! Tell it that you hate it.
It ignores you and sits there acting dumb,
like it didn't do anything.
Then, well, you start losing your nerve.
Yep.
And once it starts to get the better of you,
that's it -- your goose is cooked
'cause you lose your concentration.
But, you see, you have to maintain concentration.
You *cannot* lose track of where all those
big long 12-foot razor-wire-coated canes are
or it'll get you again.
Yep, it'll hook onto you.. maybe get you by the nose
while you're worrying about your already ripped-up ear.
Finally, it has you all cut to ribbons.
Scarified on every exposed part of your body.
Death by a thousand cuts.
You start feeling like quitting.
I mean, what kind of fool would want to keep going??
Only you *know* that if you quit,
there is NO WAY you are gonna make yourself
get all dressed up to fight with that rose bush again.
Forget that old saying, "He who fights and runs away,
lives to fight another day."
It's not true. Even if he lives,
he's *not* coming back to fight.
That's just a load of B.S. and we all know it.
So, you persist... and keep snipping..
and, of course, it gets you a few more times
until you are shrinking at the thought
of yet another gouge, rip or tear.
You cringe in cowardice, but you continue.
*snip* *snip* *snip*
It's said by someone (can't remember who)
that continuous pain can elevate your mind
to a level where you think great thoughts.
I think that happened to me yesterday.
Yep.
Suddenly I found myself thinking that Brer Rabbit
wasn't a crafty little rabbit at all.
Nope.
He was just a run-of-the-mill masochist.
"Just throw me into the Briar Patch!!"
Yeah, right. Like you really want to go there.
Well.. I finally got the job done.
Cut off, get this... TWO... count 'em...
TWO jumbo farm-sized wheelbarrow loads
full of chopped up rose canes...
some of which were well over an inch in diameter
with thorns an inch long and 1/4 inch thick.
This morning, I'm looking at the big heap of rose canes
in my compost heap and thinking,
"You know, these could be USEFUL!"
Yep. I-I-I could make Ninja weapons out of these,
or imitation medieval torture devices
to sell on eBay!!
But I won't. I'll just let them molder back into the soil
from whence they came.
This morning, I was also thinking
that I shoulda got a MEDAL for this.
Except, I don't think I want one.
Don't those things have pins on the back of them
and aren't they kinda sharp?
(o: |
