I hate to beat a dead horse, but it appears it's time for my annual "I Hate Spring" report.

I noticed today that the lilac bushes are getting leaves on them and our apricot tree has blossomed once again into a beautiful bouquet of white flowers -- that's not the part I hate.

The part I hate it what is sure to follow; mowing, weeding, raking, weedeating, trying to make things grow that I know I'll only end up killing within a month…

This year will be especially difficult since I've been suffering from back problems for the last eight months and my son isn't here to do the work for me.

I've thought of several innovative ways of making life a little easier. I could cover our 13,000 square-feet of weeds with concrete or asphalt. I could apply ground killer to everything and "go green" by going brown. I could provide the neighborhood children with the biggest sand pile they've ever seen -- but we don't have a lot of kids in the neighborhood -- or I could pay $300 a month for lawn care services.

None of it seems to be very feasible.

I have tried alternative methods of yard care in the past. One year I did try to kill the entire back yard, which allowed the goat-head stickers to take control. Now, unless you have steel-soled shoes on, you can't even get into the back yard without puncturing your foot.

After the second year of goat-heads, I decided to find a natural way to get rid of that nuisance. I did some checking on the Internet and found that a certain kind of goose considers the nuisance weed a delicacy. I figured living so close to the edge of the city limits, I'd get away with keeping a few of the birds long enough to clean up my sticker patch.

I went out and bought three chicks. Since we didn't exactly have a chick hut, we kept them in the basement until it was warm enough to keep them outside. I was foolish enough to believe they'd stay in the back yard, eating happily at their gourmet meal of goat-head stickers.

There was just one problem with my plan. During their stay in our basement, they had adopted me. They followed me everywhere and in so doing, they discovered the front part of the house that faces South Street. Not only was I concerned for their safety, their leftovers caused extra work in the raking department. The three little geese soon found a new home on a friend's farm. At last report, her yard is goat-head free.

I still like the idea of covering everything with concrete, asphalt, or sand but I have to consider the expense of such an endeavor.

Brad and I have discussed it at length and I almost have him convinced that a dozen or so goats would quickly cure the problem.

Now all I have to do is convince the goats to build a fence tall enough that they can't get over it and, voila, problem solved!