Bur Battle

I thought I knew every bur-bearing plant there was. When I was a kid living on the sandy bluff known as New Boston, IL., I steered clear of sandburs. Those little devils really hurt when you’re bare-footed, and it even hurts to pull them off of your skin. Then there were “stick tights,” tiny black sticks with a bunch of quills sticking out of one end. They were aptly named.

When I moved to Eureka, I was introduced to cockleburs. I think their only redeeming feature is that the guy who invented Velcro got his idea from cockleburs. Oh yes, I guess the Japanese eat the plant some way or other. ---A neighbor told me that there was a cocklebur plant growing in front of her house. A Japanese college student was walking by and exclaimed “A bur plant!” (She said it in Japanese, however) She was all excited and took part of the plant back to her room to cook it.--- I’ve learned that cockleburs are VERY disease, insect, and Round-up resistant. The latter just beads up on the leaves, and it’s almost totally ineffective. You never see damage to a leaf that means some insect is dining or living on it. Digging out the roots is a hard job, even when the plant is young.

A couple of years ago I discovered “bedstraw.” How it got that name, I don’t know. It’s a fragile-looking, pretty plant with pretty little leaves, and sticks like glue! I first found it in my cats’ fur. They walked under the plant and it latched on. I’ve grubbed it out of my yard and yank it out of the neighbors’ yard whenever I see it.

And now I have found “bursage.” It’s a kind of ragweed. I was pulling bindweed from the bushes and redbud tree in front of the house, and suddenly I was COVERED with tiny green burs! I looked closer and discovered this innocent-looking plant with 4-inch, limber twigs with little green globs on it. By the time I saw the darned thing, I was covered with those burs. Those who know me know that I wear an elastic sleeve to control my lymphodema. There must have been 200 little burs stuck to that sleeve! And another 300 stuck to my shirt! And another 100 or so stuck to my pants! And another 50 stuck to my shoe laces! I started pulling them off and discovered that it is nearly impossible to get all of the stickery things off. I’d pull off a bur, and there would be one or two 1/8 inch, “limbs” that were left stuck into the fibers of my clothing, and every one of those teeny limbs could stick to anything that came near. The sleeve was a total loss, and those things cost $75 a piece! My shirt was a loss. Fortunately it was an old one. I worked long and hard on the pants and finally got it bur-free, ditto my shoes.

I went online and think I’ve identified the wicked plant as “bursage,” a low-growing relative of ragweed. The sites I was on didn’t give me a really good chance to identify the plant, however, and I don’t know where my ‘plant key” is from my college botany course.

I was hard put to figure a way to get rid of that bunch of plants (a grouping about 3 ft. in diameter). Last night as I was trying to go to sleep I decided to encase myself in plastic bags, pull the stuff up and seal it in a plastic garbage bag. This morning Jim helped me tape a plastic grocery bag to my sleeved arm, and a black plastic garbage bag as a skirt. I went out and carefully pulled the offending weed up and stuffed it into another bag. I was doing pretty well until a skinnier branch flang back on me and nailed my shirt, an old one that I could do without if things went bad. I got all 50 burs out of my shirt and the 10 or so that were on my shoe laces. Now I have to make a note in my datebook for next spring to be sure to use Round-up on any plant in that area that doesn’t look familiar. I’m already on patrol for stinging nettles. Now I’ve added bursage to my battle list. (I should have had Jim take a picture of me in my bur battle dress.)