A poke in the eye with a sharp stick

Or how I battled the ivy and it fought back.
*don't forget to play today's theme-related music below


I can't remember how many bags of ivy I've cleared from this yard over the past forty-five months, but I've blogged about it here, here, here and here.
This is the first time it has fought back, though. I gave one giant tug to a creeper that was tangled in a juniper bush when a stick that had been buried in its midst came flying out and stabbed me squarely in the left eye.
All those times when I've said "it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick"? Take it from me there are few things more painful than a poke in the eye with a stick. Any kind of stick. Additionally you have to deal with the mental anguish that the blindness you are experiencing may turn out not be temporary.


Turns out the damage wasn't permanent, it just increased my determination to get rid of the remaining dusty, dirty green blanket. Ironically I had decided to tackle it today because I've been tripping over some tendrils ever since we moved the path a couple of weeks ago and I thought it was getting dangerous. Look how clear this bed is.


No ivy here either.


Absolutely all gone. Everywhere. The kitties will just have to play in the hostas instead.