
Our family’s harvest of thistles. Photo by Alan Perkins.
Today I was inspired while weeding. This was not the dainty weeding that one does in a household garden bed. No, one afternoon on my Christmas holidays I spent the afternoon with the rest of our family pulling thistles out of an infested paddock on my brother’s farm. When I wasn’t pulling thistles I was chief thistle spotter and bag puller. As you can see from the photo we filled one ute tray with thistles and there’s still more to be done.

A photo of a thistle is better than the real thing – no prickles! Photo by Alan Perkins
So I suppose you are thinking that given we were weeding on such a large scale that my inspiration must be similarly large, maybe even momentous. You may be right. In fact my inspiration was so compelling that I have passed on a game of scrabble to share my inspiration with you.
It all started with a simple question. Why, oh why, did Tasmania’s early settlers feel so compelled to transport such a dastardly prickly plant thousands of kilometres from its home in Scotland and plant it in the antipodes? Continue reading

