Selective weeding

I don't mind weeding.  I should say my mind doesn't mind weeding but my body?  Whole different story.

I hated weeding as a kid.  What red-blooded kid worth his kid-dom (yes, I just made that up) likes to weed?  But we had to.  We never thought about checking into the child labor laws back then - we did
it because mom told us we had to.

I've noticed over the past few years that my hamstrings and lower back are not fond of the weeding process.

My knees rebelled a time ago.

I can't sit anymore like my friend, Cathy Eichelberger, suggested because it kills my BUTT.

Squatting?  My quads are pretty strong thanks to Jazzercise but getting back up from that position shouldn't ever be seen by another human.

So I'm stuck with bending over.  I noticed yesterday that there's a time limit too.  I know it's time to quit when my hamstrings begin to scream.  Honestly, they can be heard from down the block.  My neighbors called 911 the other day.  They thought someone was being murdered.  I made that last part up.

So I decided that I would categorize the weeds in need of pulling.
I went first for the dandelions because they're so visual.

The second group was those damn wild onions.  

The 3rd group belonged to those frigging, tiny, miniature maple trees.  The word on the street is that if you don't pull them they grow up to be adult maples and take over everything.  You also need to get them out when they're still in the infant stage.  As teenage trees it's almost impossible.

Those are the 3 groups that I'm going to focus on.  Any other low growing weed will be forever referred to as a new flower and will be left untouched.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.