GOOSEGRASS is widely regarded as the stickiest nuisance in the garden. Although it owes its most common name to geese, which have a liking for it, dozens of its folk names mark its stickiness-sticky willy, sticky molly, sticky jack and sticky bob, among others. Local names, such as hayriffe and hedgeriffe, are said to have originated from the AngloSaxon word for robber or tax-gatherer, because the plant stole wool from passing sheep.
Belying both moniker and appearance, however, goosegrass doesn't actually stick. Instead, its square stems and the undersides of its leaves are coated with tiny hooked hairs, with which it fastens itself to drape over whatever herbage is to hand, enveloping and subduing smaller plants and climbing more than a yard up stouter foliage in search of sunlight. Nicholas Culpepper's 1652 herbal treatise described its stems as 'so weak that unless it be sustained by the hedges, or other things near which it groweth, it will lie down on the ground'. Fast-growing and determinedly verdant in spring, it snatches at animals and clothes, so much so that a folk name, everlasting friendship, offered a sardonic comment on its persistence, with another, sweethearts, celebrating its entwining nature.
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Tales as old as time
By appointing writers-in-residence to landscape locations, the National Trust is hoping to spark in us a new engagement with our ancient surroundings, finds Richard Smyth
Do the active farmer test
Farming is a profession, not a lifestyle choice’ and, therefore, the Budget is unfair
Night Thoughts by Howard Hodgkin
Charlotte Mullins comments on Moght Thoughts
SOS: save our wild salmon
Jane Wheatley examines the dire situation facing the king of fish
Into the deep
Beneath the crystal-clear, alien world of water lie the great piscean survivors of the Ice Age. The Lake District is a fish-spotter's paradise, reports John Lewis-Stempel
It's alive!
Living, burping and bubbling fermented masses of flour, yeast and water that spawn countless loaves—Emma Hughes charts the rise and rise) of sourdough starters
There's orange gold in them thar fields
A kitchen staple that is easily taken for granted, the carrot is actually an incredibly tricky customer to cultivate that could reduce a grown man to tears, says Sarah Todd
True blues
I HAVE been planting English bluebells. They grow in their millions in the beechwoods that surround us—but not in our own garden. They are, however, a protected species. The law is clear and uncompromising: ‘It is illegal to dig up bluebells or their bulbs from the wild, or to trade or sell wild bluebell bulbs and seeds.’ I have, therefore, had to buy them from a respectable bulb-merchant.
Oh so hip
Stay the hand that itches to deadhead spent roses and you can enjoy their glittering fruits instead, writes John Hoyland
A best kept secret
Oft-forgotten Rutland, England's smallest county, is a 'Notswold' haven deserving of more attention, finds Nicola Venning