I admired the pretty yellow blossoms on a prickly pear and planted some in my backyard. What I didn't reckon on was the fact that I couldn't weed in or around the clump. Grass stubbornly moved in. Little stickers even attacked my leather gloves and made them beyond repair. Occasionally one got in my finger and stubbornly refused to give up its position. The answer became obvious. I put on my heaviest long pants and a thick jacket and some old leather gloves and got my shovel and wheelbarrow. I dumped the whole clump in my burning pile and said "Good riddance!"
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