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There's nothing like sitting on your back porch, nice cold lemonade in hand, feeling a light, warm summer breeze bring the scent of flowers to you from your garden, which you have worked so hard on. What a time to reap the lovely benefits. Feeling like a lazy summertime stroll, what a time to go around the yard and admire your handiwork. Wonderful aphid-free roses, vivid violet-blue bachelors buttons, bountiful fiery bunches of marigolds, and wait. What's this? What appears to be a bright green start to a blackberry vine creeping it's way out of the corner in the fence. Upon closer inspection, through it. Arrgggg and damnation, cheese and crackers, how could this even be possible? In the spirit of being neighborly, you peek over the fence and see you neighbor watering their fresh cut grass, humming along with a tune on the radio and waiting for their grill to heat. "Hey neighbor, yard is lookin' good this year!" Smiles, thanks, and you toos go back and forth cordially as expected until the question is popped. "How are we gonna get rid of these darn blackberries this year?" It was as if the pleasant good-natured neighbor saw a bomb falling from the sky, and it was in his direction. "Are you kidding? I'm raising those babies from seeds! Nothing like fresh blackberries man!" Disbelief, and instant horror. These things were rooting in every direction, including underneath the vegetable garden on the side. This neanderthal had no clue! Even when asked politely, and given the facts of the matter, no agreement to get rid of the wretched blackberries could be had. For the sake of organic gardening, no spray was allowed in this garden. Cutting back these sprouts and keeping them in check was all that was possible, and better then fighting with the neighbor all summer long. Interestingly enough, when August came around, and the bush was full of juicy, road dust free berries, impressed was the word. And when that neighbor brought over a home made blackberry pie, and a promise of a pint of blackberry brandy for Christmas, well, it was worth a couple of thorns.

Learn more about this author, Angela Vetter.
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