This is weed season, or weeding season, if a person is inclined to do anything about it.

Of particular concern is the sighting of the garlic mustard weed in Edmonton. It is a serious invader brought here from another land. It quickly monopolizes light, moisture and soil nutrients essential to native plants, thereby dominating and displacing them. It is noxious.

Our backyard is not the ideal habitat for the garlic mustard weed. It is, however, ideal for many other weeds. About five years ago the weed growth in the backyard far exceeded my inclination to do anything about it.

At the time, my granddaughters liked running through the bushes in our backyard, playing time travel fantasies. I decided that if I was not going to pull the weeds then I would be inspired by them. I wrote a story for Josie and Sullivan with the girls as the main characters.

Briefly, they were transported to land called Yardledom. Many families lived there.  There were the Roses, the Fleurs, the Berries and many others. They were all Yardles. They spoke a language called Yardish that the girls quickly understood. Yardles were very civilized and sophisticated.

The Yardles were very troubled. They had been seriously invaded. The invaders were from another land called Weedledom. They were Weedles. The Weedles were already crowding out the Yardles, taking their sunshine, water and food.

They spoke a language similar to Yardish called Weedish. Although it had a familiar lilt to it, Weedish was, however, primitive and unsophisticated, a bit backward, literally.

"Space our out get!" Josie and Sullivan were quickly told by a Weedle wearing a yellow flower on its head.

"PRRRRRUUUUUB!"  burped another Weedle, reverberating throughout Yardledom.

Weedles are clearly rude, uncivilized and obnoxious. I will go no further on the details of their crude and impolite vegetative bodily eruptions.

Of course, Yardles have the same vegetative needs but they manage them in a genteel manner.  That is clear if we stop to smell the Roses.

The girls grabbed the Weedles and stuffed them in a large black bag while chanting, "Trashledom, Trashledom, Weedle Dee Dee, Never Again Us, You to See." They became The Heroes of Yardledom, the title of the story.

I thought reading the story to the girls might inspire them to help weed the yard. Alas, it was a fantasy.

This year the Weedles are back in invasion force again. I have contracted with a person to do the weeding so, like lawn mowing, it will not interfere with my enjoyment of the summer.

I bet she would especially enjoy the work if she chanted, "Trashledom, Trashledom, Weedle Dee Dee, Never Again Us, You to See." Maybe I will mention it to her.