Japanese Knotweed: My Part in Its Downfall

When we bought the house (and for years afterwards), our yard was only a couple of cars on blocks and a bathtub shrine away from Redneck Nirvana. We focused first on the interior, with necessary attention to Things That Were Blowing Up Right Now. Later, we moved on to Things That Could Cause a Freak Accident and slightly more leisurely points beyond. During this time, we mowed the scrubby grass, cut down the worst of the monster weeds, and planted a few gift plants. It’s all we had time for.

I wish I were kidding. This was our yard.

One of the gift plants was called “fleeceflower,” and it looked really pretty. It was vigorous and attractive, and I didn’t have to do a thing to it. It had pink veining on the leaves, and fluffy flowers in late summer.

What’s not to love?
Photo credit: Wikipedia/Ancatdubh43

But pretty is as pretty does, and in this case, pretty does Dallas. It’s a very busy plant, which is a nice way of saying it’s an evil, invasive bully from hell. When it first started its conquest of our garden, I was pleased – but when it knocked out the ditch lilies and lily of the valley, I started to be concerned. When it started heaving up large rocks, I freaked. And researched.  And despaired. 

But I knocked it back in one season, and three years later, there’s no sign of it. It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t environmentally friendly, but here’s how I did it.

1. Commitment. With Japanese Knotweed, you have to want it. I had a mantra: “I am smarter and meaner than you, plant, and I am going to win!” Hold on to your mantra, because fleeceflower will make you feel dumb and helpless if you let it.
2. Glyphosate (Round-Up). If this is a midway stop in your research, I can imagine your laughter. Round-Up will not kill it, no. But it’s a good start on weakening it. Spray the bastards with Round-Up to cover every leaf surface, top and bottom. You’re going to want the bigger “tank” size.
3. WAIT. Seriously. Wait. Round-Up requires the plant to keep going while it gets down into the roots. Wait a couple of weeks. Cackle maniacally from time to time, because the plant has no idea what’s coming for it.
4. Cut it down. Knotweed can regenerate from clippings, so put down a tarp and cut the stalks off about a foot from the ground. Gather EVERYTHING in the tarp and dry it out, then burn it. Do not compost it. Do not trash it. Do not leave any pieces behind. Do not fail to completely clean your shoes and tools before leaving the area. Destroy it.
5. Round-Up. What?? Yes, more Round-Up. Once you cut it down, you’ll have the gaping maws of the sheared canes exposed. Stick the Round-Up nozzle right down their throats and spray with abandon. Renew your commitment by imagining them gagging and choking.
6. Wait. Give it another couple of weeks. Yes, this area looks like hell. War is hell and you are at war with this plant.
7. Round-Up. Really? Yes, because the thing will most likely put up some sprouts. Look yards away for sprouts – I found some that vined under the porch and came out where it thought it was safe. Coat the leaves on the new growth, top and bottom.
8. Wait. A couple of weeks, yes. And while waiting, imagine the plant in its death throes. Hate it a lot! You have reason.
9. Dig! Get your tarp out again, and start digging. The roots will be unbelievable – woody, thick, gnarled, vicious. You’ll need a saw. Dig. Cut. Dig. Cut. Tease out the smaller roots. Follow every big root you can find and get it out of there. Gather everything on the tarp; you’re going to burn it or encase it in nuclear waste. (Burning is more practical.) I also had a heap of dirt that I screened and supplemented with clean fill. When I was doing this, I had a trench over three feet deep. I insisted the Kev spend some time outside so the neighbors knew he was well. It looked as if we'd had some sort of extremely serious argument with illegal outcomes.
10. Keep hating it!
11. Drill. You are not going to get all the roots. I followed one down to a meter below grade, and then it took a turn straight down into the bowels of the earth. Spray the cut ends with…you guessed it! Let dry for a few days, and then take your drill and riddle the stinkers with holes. Cover each one completely with stump removing powder.
12. Fill. Fill in with uncontaminated dirt back up to grade, compacting as you go. Get bog standard dirt – anything with lots of organic matter or fertilizers will encourage it to come back, and it needs no encouragement.
13. Cover. Get a big, nasty, impermeable tarp and cover the area. Go at least five feet beyond the kill zone. Weigh it down with big old rocks, and then cover the whole thing with landscape rocks or mulch. You won’t be growing anything here for a couple of years. I kept container plants on top.
14. Patrol. By now, you know the shoots and leaves and even the roots of your enemy. Check beyond the edges of the tarp for signs of life. If the tarp heaves up somewhere from new sprouts, peel it back, spray, and re-cover. Repeat at least once in a couple of weeks, then cut it back, and re-tarp. Stay alert!
15. Wait. And patrol. For a couple of years. You want at least a year to pass between the last sprout and the next step. Keep in mind it can resprout from rhizomes over ten years later.
16. Resume your life (sort of). Get some of the fancy-pants landscape fabric – the stuff that lasts 25 years with the rubberized backing – and replace the tarp. Cut holes to plant stuff through. Don’t spend a lot of money on plants for this area, ‘cuz you may have to move them. Keep an eye out for scary leaves. Gardening will never be the same, but your alert level can step down a bit.

I am aware that some of these steps may be superfluous or not supported by research (particularly the bits about hating), but hey: success.

If you face knotweed, good luck, soldier!

Somewhat related: Note that Round-Up is not necessarily the be-all and end-all in herbicides. Other products contain similar levels of glyphosate. When buying glyphosate products of any brand, you may want to select ones that do NOT claim to show overnight results. Glyphosate works by spreading through the plant from the leaves. If the leaves are shriveled by an extra ingredient added to reward a lack of patience, the product is not going to work as well. Minus five points for consumerism.

And Now for Elation?

I keep returning to this wonderful article (by botanist Phil Gates for the BBC) as I wait for spring.

And wait. And WAIT. Stupid tundra! Why must you piddle in my Cheerios?? I just want to get back out in the garden, especially since the mail-order nurseries have so kindly delivered all my new plants with strict instructions to Plant Immediately. I do not think they mean In the Snow. Bah!

A year ago today, during an early spring.

As Mr. Gates points out: 

[O]nce the gardening bug has bitten you may find yourself committed to an annual roller-coaster ride of emotions that can transport you from the heights of elation to the outer limits of exasperation and - along the way - deliver a reminder of what it is to be human.

Lovely. But Mr. Gates lives in that green and pleasant Zone-8 land where the daffs came up months ago. I could tell him a thing or two about the outer limits of exasperation!

What Light Through Yonder Mason Jar Breaks?

Over the last few months, I’ve had a few rewiring projects on lamps and small appliances. I’ve mainly been replacing switches and plugs, typically following catastrophic failures of the original equipment. Not that I didn’t have warning in most cases. The Exploding Rheostat Incident is spoken of only in whispers now, but none dare speak of the earlier Hot Pedal Foot Episode. So, yeah, I did know the sewing machine control was about to go out of commission, but I was just! finishing! this! one! seam!!!! (*bang*)

Small electrical stuff is a nice change from working on hard wiring, what with all the ladder-standing and neck-craning. I got to feeling a little self-congratulatory, and even branched out from repairs, making a jar into a hanging lamp for an alcove in the kitchen. “How clever I am!” I opined. But after I “had” my “idea,” I started seeing similar fixtures everywhere, online and even in real life. Perrier hanging lamps. Wine bottle lights. A friend reminded me of the fabulous Grain Belt chandelier at the now-defunct Harry’s in Minneapolis. Hey, what can I say? I’m standing on the shoulders of giants here! Plus, it’s highly validating to see the same sort of thing going for about $140 over materials cost at someplace au courant. People, this light can be yours for $9 in materials + a smug sense of accomplishment!

A few things about small wiring projects – first, they are SMALL, which is great. But second, they are SMALL, which means you often have to deal with that multistrand small-gauge wire. I hate that stuff because I often find that tightening up connections just ends up with the dang thing fraying out all over the place. If you give it a twist or two first, though, you end up with something much easier to work with. Also, if you need to hook this type of thing (or, really, any wire) under a screw to make the connection, make the “hook” face right. As you tighten the screw (“righty-tighty”), you won’t be working against the wire.

Like this! Not the other way 'round.

On lamp cord and similar, it’s not perfectly obvious which wire would be black or white in sheathed cable. You strip lamp cord, and you have two bits of weenified copper that look exactly alike. How do you choose a side for neutral or hot, and how do you keep track of it over the length of the cord? I will admit to using markers and tape to track one side of lamp cord to maintain polarity. Turns out, manufacturers anticipated this problem, but they didn’t send me the memo. If you look closely at the outside of the lamp cord, the wire that would be white and that would go to the silver side (neutral) has ridges running length-wise down the outside of that side of the cord. The other side goes to the brass screw. This is true for most flat lamp and small appliance cord – check it out! This makes swapping plugs and stuff really simple. “Silver Ridge” is easy to remember, too – no one’s beating down the trademark office door to register “BRASS Ridge.”

Mnemonics Anonymous

Copyright 365corks.com; used by permission.

Somewhat related: If you would like to make your own jar light, all you need is a lidded jar, some lamp cord, a plug, an adaptor kit. Avoid overheating with compact, low-power bulbs and some holes in the lid. Easy-peasy. I also bought an electronic light switch. I ran the cord from the light along the ceiling and down alongside the molding to an outlet. To use the switch, plug the light cord into a small receiver unit, and then stick that into the wall. A remote that looks and acts like a light switch sends a signal to the receiver unit to turn on the power. Feels slightly cheesy, but I can live with it.

Shout-out: I love wine, and I really love affordable wine. Rob from 365corks.com graciously gave me permission to use the Silver Ridge image above, and I'd like to point y'all that direction for great info on truly affordable wines with no snobbery whatsoever. Thanks, Rob!

I Would Prefer an Amazing Screw-On Head

Several weeks back, I slipped on the ice and put my right hand down to break my fall. My wrist was sore for a few days, but nothing major. And then I painted the kitchen, thereby aggravating what was apparently a minor strain into full-blown tendonitis. Still not serious, of course, but Highly Annoying. 

I’m wearing a brace to keep the wrist straight, which makes me feel a little like I have my very own Mignola-esque Hand of Doom, except (downside) I can’t use it to bash baddies. Plus, Hellboy appears to be left-handed (at least in weapon-based circumstances), which I am not. The brace is helping my physical pain, but is really disturbing my calm. By immobilizing my right wrist, the brace is immobilizing ME, and I have Things To Do!

So does Hellboy.

As it feels better, I keep trying to use my right hand a bit more for minor projects. Sanded the deck box for restaining. Felt fine! An hour later, felt not so fine. Spackled the cracks in the kitchen ceiling. Kinda hurty. I’m going to have to just Stop for a while, and stopping is really hard when spring is in the air and I’ve cancelled cable. At least typing is no problem. And, as you can tell, there’s always our DVD collection.

He's So Phi-ne

Stacey (regarding tweaks to the arbor design): “That looks nice.”

Kevin: “I used the Golden Ratio.”

Stacey: “Of course you did.”

The guy could not be more delightful to me.

Tiiiiiiiiiiiin Hinge…Rusty

When we updated the basement bathroom, we chose items that were simple and functional. It’s a basement bathroom, and you (currently) walk through unfinished space to get there. The shower enclosure and the toilet are good-quality items. The vanity…well, we selected the vanity from an economy range presented by one of the big DIY chains.

We knew it was cheap. But still, you don’t expect this kind of hinge corrosion just months later.

It’s a vanity cabinet for a BATHROOM. We have one of those modern bathrooms with indoor plumbing, which delivers water to us inside the house. It’s actually not that unusual a luxury these days, so this is just a willfully bad material choice. (Yes, yes, and we chose it as well—but would you have expected this to happen?) What the heck, Unnamed Manufacturer for The Big Orange Store? I know the thing was designed for a low price-point, but have a modicum of pride!

Anyway, easily remedied. This is a so-called “European” hinge. The magic trick to replacing these without need for chiseling and wood filler is to buy the exact same hinge in the same size (but hopefully in a better material). Brilliant, huh?? I also use this “buy the same type of thing again” technique for car batteries and pantyhose, and I can’t recommend it too highly.

I did some rough measurements and found my replacements at Menards, a regional DIY warehouse. If your specific hinge is not findable locally, there are several online vendors. Once you have your replacement, check it against your old hinge before proceeding to make sure you have the right match.

The replacement hinge came with coarse-threaded screws that are only slightly longer than the original fasteners. There’s not a lot of traction to be gained in particle board with a screw, so I reused the original fasteners, after first buffing them down with steel wool and oiling the heads to slow future rust.

Changing a hinge on a lightweight door like this is easy. Support the door when removing the old hinge so you don’t tear the puppy up. Start removal with the bottom hinge for best stability; the top hinge carries more weight. Once removed, clean any rust debris from the cabinet and door before slapping on the new hardware. I installed the replacements cabinet side first, then opened each hinge (careful! they are snappy when they are not under load). Maneuver the door behind and on to the opened hinges, and support it (in my case, with a lady-like extended leg while I sat on the floor). Loosely set in the top fastener on the top hinge, then the top fastener on the bottom hinge, and tighten up about 80%. Add the other two, and tighten all completely.

Check for function and alignment; since you are replacing like with like, everything should be good. If not, tweak the adjustment screw(s) to get where you need to be.

Aaaaand after I fixed this little problem, the cat decided that we must be keeping food in the vanity and started scratching the door to shreds. The next vanity is going to be made of Kryptonite.

Wall Button Says No

The garage door openers mysteriously stopped working the other day, and could we find the manual?? What a ridiculous question.

Internet to the rescue! We have a Chamberlain (Chamberlain also manufactures the Craftsman openers), but I could not find the manual for our specific model on the site. It’s probably there (or elsewhere, like Manuals Online), but I stopped looking. Because I found the generalized instruction for reprogramming the remotes. And assumed that was the problem.

Reprogrammed the remotes. (If you need to do this, it’s easy-peasy – just involves some button-pushing while standing on a stepladder.) Wait – now the touchpad and wall button don’t work. Did they work before I reprogrammed?? I didn’t check. 

[Insert annoyed hour of trying to individually reprogram each thing while accidentally deprogramming other things before finally deciding that I hadn’t really given the Internet a chance.]

The Kev pointed out that the symptom I had not Googled was the flashing wall button. (I assumed that this was the result of my rewiring job on the button after I hit its wire several times with a hammer, thereby fraying it beyond use. Accidentally. Well, “coincidentally” at least.) Turns out a flashing wall button means it has been set (accidentally) to “vacation lock-out” mode, making the remotes inoperable. 

My searches indicated that one would need to press the button and the “lock” button together to achieve lock-out. Umm…I don’t have a model fancy enough to have a “lock” button! I just have a button. So I tried just pushing the button down for a couple of seconds. No more flashing! Wall button works! Keypad works! Remotes do not work because of the inappropriate reprogramming, so I just reprogrammed them again. Remotes work! Awesome! 

Somewhat related:  When and if you get up next to your opener, you may notice a loose wire dangling out of the back of the box. This is the antenna for the remotes – do NOT trim it back, as tempting as that may be. 

Hello!

And welcome to the corner of DIY and Vine, Twin Cities, Minnesota.

We’ve had our 1922 bungalow for over a decade. Our mission was to find and fix up a house in good structural condition and more or less its original floorplan. My fearless husband (“the Kev”) is so handy it’s scary (former blacksmith, I kid you not), and I was brought up by resourceful folks whom I firmly believe had kids mainly to staff the deadman.* If we don’t know how to do something, we figure it out (with some bumps and a fair bit of swearing along the way). We’re both hard-to-intimidate, stubborn cheapskates who believe in sweat equity. But even given all that . . . we really thought we’d be done by now.

So I’m trying to embrace the journey, usually with good success. In recent years, though, I realized that people—even people who don’t know me that well—make small talk by asking what we’re doing on the house lately. I decided I needed an outlet other than Random Unwilling People, and here we are.

* Kidding, Mom and Dad!