When I am invited to give my opinion, I normally suggest that we should celebrate difference. It’s the peculiarities of life that make it magical. The world would be a boring place if we were all the same etc etc etc. I’m a pretty liberal chap in this respect.
And see how artistically I have demonstrated my point in the photo above. This is an unwanted face in a cultivar called Pink Pride, a hobby stock of mine.
Anyhow. Now thinks get a bit blacker. My social tolerance does not extend to daffodils. When it comes to my daffodils, I am something of a fascist dictatorship (Oh and hi Robert Mugabe, if you are reading this by the way – I hope that you lose the “election”). We have nearly thirty different daffodil cultivars and the purity of my daffodil stocks is very important to me and my customers.
Each year we have to remove any odd daffodil bulbs which have got mixed into the stock. The number of the poor little fellow illustrated has been called. This, I guess, is the horticultural equivalent of ethnic cleansing. Some of the team have already been through and dug out the odd bulbs, or rogues as we call them in the trade. This is all done by hand and is a bit of a bothersome task.
Last year we bought in a stock of a cultivar that we haven’t grown before. It arrived with a very high level of rogue varieties in it (mostly though it was polluted with my least favourite cultivar, Ice Follies. Eurgggghhh). We decided that there were too many bulbs to dig them all out by hand.
So Matthew took matters into his own hands. He was the SS officer on this one, if you like. I’m starting to wonder if all the Nazi analogies have made this is one of my darkest ever entries (which is pretty damning considering that Gary Glitter got a look in on the last one). I went out into the field to sort the problem out in person. Thankfully it was a bit to muddy to wear jackboots.
This was my weapon of choice.
It is a sheep vaccinating syringe with a mini back pack filled with glyphosate. This is pretty dangerous (goodness knows why I’m telling you about it), I certainly wouldn’t dare send anyone else out to do a job like this. I put a little protective “sheath” (can I say that, does it sound too rude) over most of the needle to make it as safe as I could and went to work.
I managed to cover about one acre in an afternoon. It was a really quick method. The sun was blazing and there was no wind. It was a glorious afternoon, just me and my daffodils (oh and an ipod) I can’t recall ever being happier.