Living with (grrr) weeds: Ways to minimize the madness

April 15, 2011|By Virginia A. Smith, Inquirer Staff Writer
  • Canada thistle is in the author's bad-weed book, right with poison ivy.

It's noontime and the temperature's already 67 degrees - not a record for early April, but a happy surprise for a trio of gardeners shaking off the kinks of winter.

Mary Elena Wirzburger, Mike Hogan, and Raymond Wargovich are meeting at Medford Leas, the retirement community in Medford, but this is not home. They just borrow land here for what they call "the donation garden."

For the last two years, this 20-by-36-foot plot has produced more than 1,000 pounds of fruits and vegetables for local soup kitchens and folks in need. Today, to launch the 2011 season, they're tackling one of the worst jobs ever - weeding.

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"Unfortunately, when you have a vegetable garden, weeds can be one of your biggest crops," Wirzburger says.

Every spring, gardeners rhapsodize about how satisfying it is to

be "digging in the dirt" once more. Weeding is the dark side of that uplifting tale, and just about everybody hates it.

Sure, some relish the instant grat of pulling the offenders, the calming repetition and neatness of it all. Guilt and fear drive the rest of us: If we don't get rid of these unwanted plants, the plants we want will be overrun - outcompeted for water and nutrients - by the rambunctious likes of bittercress, mugwort, purple deadnettle, and chickweed.

"Some of this stuff, like mugwort, we swear the roots go to China," says Wirzburger, who, like her two pals and several other Burlington County master gardeners, spends up to six hours a week here during the 20-week growing season.

Wirzburger is a homemaker from Medford who raised five children and volunteered like crazy while the rest of us went to "work." Hogan is a retired marketing manager from Tabernacle. And Wargovich is a retired intensive care physician from Hainesport, who never tires of telling the same joke, over and over.

"I'm out-standing in my field," he announces from the middle of the garden, then waits for the predictable groans. And they come, always do.

These friends are unanimously old-school. They hand-pull weeds, with help from shovel and pitchfork; stirrup hoe (handle with stirrup-shaped blade on the end); mulch fork (like a pitchfork, with 10 tines); three-pronged cultivator (sharp-tined hand-rake) and serrated weed knife; garden rake; and trowel.

They kneel on foam pads, strap on plastic knee pads, occasionally wear gloves, and work in two- to three-hour stretches at a time to minimize injury.

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