I am waging a war on all the baby oak trees sprouting up all over the yard. I would say I was waging war against the squirrels who likely buried them in the vegetable beds to begin with, but if the acorn has gone so far to sprout a 4" tree, I think it's safe to say the squirrels have long forgotten about them. I suspect squirrels don't have the greatest long-term memory. And certainly we can't blame the squirrels for all of them - quite a few are within tossing distance of the oak trees in the hedge alongside the yard.
Now, I love oak trees more than your average person. There is something about the sight of brown hills with spreading dark green oak that says "home" and "California" to me like nothing else. However, this does not mean I want them taking over the vegetable garden, or sprouting up under the apple trees, and getting in the way of our grand plans for this summer's gardening.
And so I wage war. I was hoping for a sprinkling of rain this week, to soften the ground. I haven't gotten it, so I'm going ahead without. I've pulled up a dozen so far this morning, and there are many many more to go. With the ground hard and dry, it's hard to get up the acorn itself, which means I may be re-fighting today's battle again in a few months. But I shall fight on. Right after I find a pair of gardening gloves, because my hands are starting to hurt.
(with apologies to Emma Bull for the title)