A Shakespearean question

To spray or not to spray, that is the question

Whether ’tis wiser to expect some further rain

And let the bloody nettles live another day

Or go and drench them with a toxic shower

Beneath the glowering clouds that fill the sky

And in so doing make them wilt, and ultimately die.

Answers on a postcard please. A winner will be drawn at random and receive 600 kg. of dead nettles. Warning: May contain bindweed.

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8 thoughts on “A Shakespearean question

  1. Bravo, ladies! I wish I could compose a fitting response, but I’m engulfed in a huge hayfever cloud just at the mo and the creative brain isn’t functioning.

  2. No more; and at knee high to say an end
    The nose-ache and the thousand tissues used
    Their deep rooted splendor ’tis a plague
    Disloyal to their queens desires, to live or die
    To live; perchance to breath again; a sneeze begone!

    (personally I would kill for nettles in my yard!)

    • I’d nothing do to hurt the bees
      Their busy buzzing does me please
      Despite the fact they’ve stung me twice
      My dearest wish is to be nice

      Nettles have their place, I know
      I do not mind to let them grow
      But they in turn must leave us space
      To walk in peace, and with some grace

      Not have to weave and dodge and leap
      Because they now are elbow-deep
      And creep with stealth across our lands
      Stinging toes and feet and legs and hands

      The birds and bees have pool and fields
      Of wild flowers to suit their needs
      So with regret I have to say
      Those damned nettles I shall spray.

      PS I’m all out of iambic pentameters. πŸ™‚

  3. If you must remove them why not
    put long gloves on, pull them out
    or slash and burn to clear the way
    anything but chemical spray –
    which kills more than you think.

    PS my iambics have gone walkabout, too, but I admire yours greatly!

  4. I wish we could, Viv. I hate using chemicals, but believe me, from a small patch they have spread out to cover about one-quarter of an acre, and it is just not physically possible to hand pull them all. Soon they will have overrun the whole field. I did try blasting them with vinegar, but it wasn’t successful. We have slashed loads, but of course the roots travel a long way and they are popping up further and further from the mother-lode. I like to let nature sort itself out, but these beasts are taking advantage of my good nature. πŸ™‚

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