In a garden, volunteers are more commonly called, "Weeds." Weed witch that I am, (I LOVE wild plants), I often pay more attention to the volunteers than to the nursery plants. I don't have a garden of my own this year, but the star volunteers in the garden I have been working are devil's claw and bindweed. I'm especially excited about the devil's claw. Anybody who has ever hiked the Southern Great Plains has met the dried husks of devil's claw. They hook into your shoes, clothing, etc., similar to how a fish hook hooks into a bass. Getting those hooks out can be challenging. It is hard for me to be sure how many decades ago I met those dried husks. This is the first time I have ever seen it *on the hoof* and been able to watch its full life cycle. Wow! What a show! I distilled a batch of the sticky stems yesterday. It produced a bitter brew. The shape of the green fruit reminds me of okra with a hook. I don't much like okra, so I hesitate to compare the flavor. This particular garden is growing in a town named Godley. Godley Devil's Claw, anyone?

Perhaps the greatest reason for my attraction to garden weeds is the similarities I find in meditations of my mental illness and the way the symptoms keep popping up all over my best laid plans. Most of those symptoms are counter-productive, but the exceptions are exceptional. I'm not having so much fun with the bindweed in this season's garden. It has monopolized on the fresh tilled soil like telemarketers on a new computer app. Its thin roots on weak vines are easily pulled aside, but those weak vines can choke a healthy plant in a very short time. Kinda like my psych symptoms. . .