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By DR. DIANE RELF Extension Environmental Horticulturist
As I’ve grown older, I have learned that weeds are nothing but a matter of semantics. With an acre and a half of a somewhat cared-for and cultivated landscape, I’ve spent many years waging a war against chaos. First, it was the glyphosate to take down the Johnsongrass and honeysuckle that dominated the property. Then, it has been mulch, mulch, mulch, and more mulch. Some of the Master Gardeners who have visited here now refer to me as the “woman who mulched a mountain.” A little extreme, I must admit, especially since my husband hauled in mulch — I just provided the motivation.
But I have finally found that there are not more weeds — just a few unwelcome guests, a couple of unfriendly interlopers, and a lot of wildflowers. After all a weed is, by definition, a plant out of place, so the choice is mine. If I want it there, it is not a weed. I have been rolling out the welcome mat to a number of previously doomed plants, and the pleasure is all mine.
Why spend time and money to grow Ammi majus only to find that it is a weak
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