Last Saturday and Sunday I cleared brush and made progress on some other big chores in the yard, including dragging out the all-powerful DR chipper and attacking what B and I call “the habitat,” a brush pile that has gotten taller than us over the past couple years. But you know what? If you ignore a brush pile long enough the smaller branches will begin to decompose on their own. Still plenty to chip, but not quite the amount we started out with. We’ll use the chips on the paths between the raised beds in B’s vegetable garden.
I also did battle with the grapevines that twine their way through everything growing on the border between the woods and the open places. At some point on Sunday afternoon I was swinging (and screaming, which upset Dale) like Tarzan as I attempted to pull a particularly tenacious vine from the top of a choke cherry.
B experienced a similar homicidal obsession a few years back when he cleared all the grapevines from the apple trees in our old orchard. They are nasty things, but I do respectfully acknowledge their ability to clamber over whatever separates them from the sun.
There will be further skirmishes this weekend.