I have battled my garden for about 12 years. When I first moved to my century old rambling house by the sea, I was thrilled with the old fashioned roses, the stone walls covered with moss, and the ancient gnarled trees. 6 months later, eyes and nose streaming, I cursed it all. I have wicked allergies and the biggest offender in my not so secret garden was the grass. So severe are my allergies that I am out of commission for several days after a lawn cutting (by someone else) takes place. Deciding that I had firmly secured my martyr status, I finally waged war on the grass last year. My only regret was the loss of the hundreds of bulbs lodged beneath the lawn that would produce a brilliant scattering of flowers in the spring. Oh well, every war has its casualties.

I smothered that grass with plastic, cardboard, landscaping fabric, limestone, and river rocks. I dug up massive patches of it (and had hives for a week afterward to prove it) and built raised gardens for my vegetables in its place. I created walkways and artistically loopy little edging beds, meticulously pulling every stray strand of the green stuff as I went. Instead of bad-karma-inducing pesticides, I used boiling water on stubborn patches. It all worked...for about a month. Life happened, my mom got sick, work called, and my garden hyper vigilance faded. The weed and grass army was stealth in reclaiming their territory, but by winter, victory was theirs.

Now it's spring and I am ready to fight again. Through tedious (and somewhat obsessive) efforts, I have managed to gain back my advantage. I showed no mercy to the dandelions, the grasses, the weeds, and the earwigs (shudder!) that had taken over my garden party. Interestingly, it was my little casualties of war that managed to overcome the biggest obstacles. Pushing up through layers of cardboard, landscape fabric, and river rocks, the shoots from the underground bulbs have proved to be surprisingly strong and incredibly persistent. Their constant pressure made the solid materials give way, as they made their unstoppable journey to the light. Great, now I sound like a Morgan Freeman voice over.

I have a lot of admiration for those little bulbs. It takes a lot of focus, drive, and determination to fulfill your destiny and they managed to do it against all odds. They managed it where the grass and weeds could not, a testimony to dedication, I think. Obviously, I left the little scrappers in place. They deserve their place in the sun.