Our front yard is protected from a busy road by a high hedge of nasty privet, adorned by equally or even more noxious morning glory. Morning glory is a stinker of a weed. It thrives in poor dry soils and can be spread by seed, root section or stem cutting. I know because when I moved in here, three sides of the fence were covered with it. It was growing up at least two sides of the house and came inside in several places more than once. If I'd have known how bad it was, and how I would battle it, I might not have moved in at all.
I did the rounds of share house interviews. I wanted a garden and I wanted control. So I was desperate to move into this house when I found it. This house was cheap and roomy, with a certain rustic charm. It was filthy and stuffed with junk but it also had a big yard full of knee high grass with a tree in the middle. And the guy with the lease was OK and thinking of going back to Adelaide soonish. Every morning on the tram to work, I passed the house and just knew I could make it work. I charmed, hustled, and made compromises. I agreed to keep my cat outside. The room and soon enough, the house, became mine (now it's ours but that's another story).
I spent long hours pulling it from the fences, the house, the collapsing chook shed along the back. The vines and the dried detritus they contained made me itch. As soon as I had cleared one side, then another would have grown up. The vines would run under the house from one side to another. My housemate at the time thought I was mad. It wasn't my house, why should I care? Besides it was pretty. And the garden looked all bare and desolate after I pulled it down. The next door neighbour also had a healthy infestation, for which they blamed us. Of course.
About this time, I had a housemate John, who was a real hoot. He was older than me, a raffish academic sort who disappeared overseas frequently. We talked frequently of the plants hallucinogenic properties. His best story was about how he ate a packet of seeds and was so out of it that he couldn't remember what happened, so a week or so later he did it again. And still couldn't remember what happened, except for a scratching feeling behind the eyelids. After hearing that, I was never tempted. Not even a little.