It's hazy in the morning. Everything swirls. Is it from the night before? Is it from this afternoon? Am I ready? Does it matter? Is it still raining?

The boots are strapped on. The gloves are pulled on. The backdoor is opened.

Where to start? Woozily, I grab some green stalks and start pulling. Eventually a pattern will present itself. Eventually I will find the path.

Our corner of the world has gotten a full year's worth of rain in a little over a month and a half. Before the rains started, it hadn't rained in a year.

Rain is good, but with all good things, there are consequences. Leaks: requiring new roofing. Bugs: requiring constant vigil and fly swatters. And growth: mostly by unwanted weeds. I'd kept the front yard pretty well under control. It's not a huge front yard. And our back enclosure (a small fenced-in area right outside the backdoor) had been mostly maintained. But the larger back and side yard areas had been left to their own devices. With no rules or structure, a jungle of many weed ethnicities grew. Some had grown so large, they threatened to tower over us humans.

On Monday, I began the attack. I took out the south side yard and pushed into the larger backyard. Each day, I pushed farther into the jungle. There would be no cut and run--these weeds had to be pulled from the roots. Cutting was only used on the tree sprouts (and these will never be eliminated completely, as they seem to keep growing back year after year). No, to get rid of the weeds, one must pull from the roots.

Luckily, the weeds have grown so large so fast, they are mostly top heavy. Many are sluggish as they have been gorging on water for the last month or so. Their root structure cannot withstand the pull of my powerful arms. But there are so many of them.

And they have their defenders. Bees and wasps love the little flowers gracing the top of many of the varieties. Birds like some of the tops of plants, too. Snails and worms and mushrooms sprout underneath the fans of the larger plants, confident there will be moisture trapped for days and weeks at a time. None of these organisms like my clearing of the backyard.

I have been bitten, cut, and gotten a couple of rashes. Since I'm allergic to pollen--and some of the plants in general--I usually finish my weed pulling days sneezing my head off, snot flowing freely from my nose. Sweat and plant juice covering my body (which is attractive to flies and other insects), and dirt ringing my ankles and wrists.

For six straight mornings, I have worked on weeding. This is the first morning I didn't stumble out of bed and into the backyard. I might, however, stride into the backyard after writing this. It has become an obsession. I will defeat these weeds. This year's version of the great green menace. It will take a few more days, but I feel confident I will have completely defeated the enemy. At least until their sons and daughters and cousins come back for more.

If it keeps raining like it has been (and it can't, right? I mean, this is a desert), I will have to keep doing this every couple of months. There is no complete defeat of these plants. Only drought keeps them at bay, and none of us really want another twelve months of no rain.

But this fight will be won, even if it turns out to be temporary.

I will claim this victory before the election season heats up, because there are so many other fights to fight.

Matt Worley predicts hostilities will cease on Wednesday at the latest.