The invasion

I gathered my equipment together yesterday at 10:30 am, stood on the driveway looking at the apparently hardy dandelions, and then made my move. They were foamed with Ortho Max from my little green tank. I watched the mixture drip down the leaves and pool at the center; sometimes I came back and gave them a double dose.

Then, toward the end, I went even more crazy – when I was mixing more formula, I  . . . well, maybe I put in a little more of the concentrate than the directions called for. Is there a war crimes tribunal relating to dandelions?

Today we will see if the mission was successful. Results in 24 hours, the green label said. I wonder if I am like General Patton, having fought weed battles in my previous lives. That sentence seems out of place at first, but it was generated by the vision of me, wearing flared out cavalry pants,  standing on the field of battle and surveying the carnage, swizzle stick in hand . . . No, not swizzle stick, swagger stick.

Maybe I breathed in some concentrated fumes yesterday?