(get out of here, you jackasses)
Witness here my green onion volunteers. They are everywhere, in nearly every pot I have.
Why, how did they get there? I have only myself to blame. Last year I was sweetly given a pot of the dreadful stuff by a fellow gardener. I took them gratefully. I despise green onions.
I'm a delicate freaking flower when it comes to digesting (or rather, not digesting) anything allium. I have to cook all onions within an inch of their life for them to not give me several hours of heartburn. Since green onions are sprinkled on raw, I avoid them, but I also deeply hate the way they taste. It's probably Pavlovian, considering what they have done to my gullet my whole life.
I grew them last year, because that's what I do- and natch, never ate them. At the end of the season as I was preparing my Big Honking Winter Dirtpile, I cut them off, dumped them in, chopped them up. Or so I thought. The BHW Dirtpile, being uninsulated, never heated up; it froze solid. The Sorcerer's Apprentice shoots are now popping up all over. I'm digging down into every pot, but no matter what I do, I can't get all of the tiny rootballs out.
Freaking green onion rootballs! Gah!