I have a woodpile in my front yard. To the untrained eye it is a flowerbed, a very large flowerbed. It covers about half of our yard and is planted in a groundcover of asiatic jasmine. There is also a stand of shrimp plant and a stand of turk’s cap. And it’s dotted with four live oaks. These are good. However, there is also an invasion of potato vine. This is not good.
Potato vine is a very fast growing plant that is not tempermental as far as water and light goes. It does well in little or much sun, little or much water. And it’s very difficult to get rid of. It is intertwined in the asiatic jasmine. It is climbing up the live oaks. It is climbing up and around the turk’s cap and the shrimp plant. And it has made a run at climbing up the front bay window. My husband took care of that by wrenching it’s hold from the screen and jerking that one arm of the vine out. But I know it is still there, lying in wait until he turns his back and in the blink of an eye, it will be back, creeping and crawling up the screen, trying to obliterate the view from inside the house. I hate potato vine!
I must admit that it has gotten out of hand because I have not been diligent about killing it. The year before last I spent quite a bit of time pulling it, dousing it with Round Up, cutting it back from the trees and windows. The plant was relentless and I was not. This is going to be the year that it’s eradicated, or at least mortally wounded.
As I’ve studied the encroachment of this plant, it has occurred to me that I have some potato vine kind of things in my life, things that I let grow and overrun my best intentions until they are no longer anything but dim memories of what I should do and how I should be. In my friendships, potato vines are failing to return a phone call or email until the object of that message is forgotten but the slight is not. Potato vines are failing to remember an important date such as a birthday or anniversary of a death date. Potato vines creep into my thought life as they entwine around prayers and become regrets of “if only” or revenge of “I should have said”. Potato vines creep into my marriage and choke out kindness and patience so that only anger remains.
Only assiduous work will eradicate that potato vine from my actions, thoughts and attitudes. Finding it wherever it’s growing and pulling it out by the roots or pouring on the anti-poison of loving kindness. All the while diligently watching and keeping alert to its presence.
I am ready to do whatever it takes to win my flowerbed–and my actions and thoughts and attitudes–back from the enemy. I am the hunter, the killer. Potato vine, say your prayers, partner. You are a goner.
Woodpile Kitty 