What I did Tuesday

I was planning on backing up all my writing to CDs in case the computer (God forbid) goes south. I tried. But there must have been some upset in the ether that sent evey telemarketer in the world to call me. We do NOT want new siding, new aluminum window frames, a new roof or a refinance on our mortgage. Nor are we interested in prizes we have won that require us to spend 45 minutes in a brief informational seminar.

The snow quit, so I gave up and went outside to do battle with the rose bush. This is a Queen Elizabeth climbing rose, and like her namesake, she is a tough old girl. In her first year she devoured a flimsy little lattice affair we had foolishly put up to give her something to climb on. We transplanted her next to a telephone pole and tied her up with the legs from ruined panty hose. The next year, she ate those. DH tied her up with nylon string. I think that was when she got a taste for blood. She has turned carnivore. She ripped free from her synthetic bonds and now is lunging at passing bicyclists. I heard that one of the neighbors is missing a yorkshire terrier. There seems to be something like a little red collar in the midst of the canes.

I have gone with the nylon string again - lots and lots of it, even though she has fought back fiercely. There are gashes and rents in my hands and clothing. She snatched the hat right off my head and repeatedly lashed at my eyes. She is restrained for now, but who knows how long this will last?

If I tell you that DH's favorite gardening tool is the flame-thrower, you will see why I am reluctant to let him deal with this, but he may be right. Is it time for a tactical strike, or is there something that is guaranteed to restrain a viscious rose bush?

She's out there now, mumbling to herself in the dark and chewing at her bonds. I worry.