My World

I like to be in charge. I hate it when things don’t go as I planned. I stand before you. In spite of my careful planning, you have been eaten. Deer love newly sprouted hosta. Yes, the deer have to live too. Still, how much actual food value is there in a one inch tiny sprout? How can that sustain a 60 pound full grown deer? Why don’t they just munch on plants in the woods behind the house?

My little 5 square foot garden sits around and behind the mailbox. Maybe the deer think this is a fast food drive through. Well, I have news for you, deer, here comes a spray of “Deer-Be-Gone” for some new sprouts. It works great but it must be applied after every rainfall as I sadly learned last year.

While I’m at it there are a bunch of some kind of daisy crowding out other plants that are well behaved and stay in their place. Even worse these daisies are invading the lawn. They refuse to stay in the place I put them. “Perennial” is not a license to roam about the garden and yard each year. Luckily for the daisies they don’t taste good to the deer. They avoid them like broccoli.

Then there’s the front yard. It does look green and healthy from a distance. But if you look closely there a several areas of moss. Instead of staying in shaded areas the moss seems to be looking to get a nice tan in our sunny front yard. I have to admit moss has a gentle and soothing feeling when touched. It would make a nice mattress cover. I pull out a few patches of moss every time I walk by, to no avail. They seem to fight the dandelions for territory. The dandelions are rather pretty with their bright yellow blooms. But they are classified by experts as a weed, so they must go.

I realize that if all moss and weeds are removed, I would have only a few patches of grass left. So I have chosen to take a balanced approach- just enough fertilizer to help the grass grow and just enough weed and moss killer to half kill the invaders.

The holes are another story. Given the large population of chipmunks and voles I suspect there is a vast array of tunnels and critter condominiums beneath the sad turf. Filling the holes with small rocks, dirt, even gasoline doesn’t stop them. The deer and little critters often try to stare me down in the yard. They apparently think they own the place. Hey, I have a deed and I pay taxes. As I approach they walk slowly away, disgusted by my intrusion. I don’t like to think about what goes on at night when they have the place to themselves. Party time!  Or maybe they are planning their war strategy for the next day.

Even amongst the grass I spot tiny vine like leaves. Pulling them slowly up, I follow the vine all the way back to their original planting site. Like the daisies, English ivy or whatever ivy they might be are nomadic and they prefer to travel and attack others. The vines, daisies, moss and dandelions are quietly fighting it out. I wonder who would win if I didn’t intervene at all?

I am slightly cheered by a partial victory over the squirrels at the bird feeder though it was a hard fought war. Even the model that closed with the weight of the squirrel on the perch didn’t work. One little guy, from the equivalent of squirrel MIT, managed to wedge open the feeder with one paw and he ate with the other. Inspired, others soon learned the trick. Then a big barrel shaped baffle over the pole blocked most of them until one big, athletic squirrel took a running leap and made it to the top of the baffle. He was apparently training for the Squirrel Olympics.

The “Have-a-Heart-Spleen-or-Other-Organ” trap was great. I captured 38 squirrels in two weeks. They weren’t too pleased to be released in a nice park. At least I didn’t let them lose on the interstate. Unfortunately the minute I returned from each squirrel trip I was greeted by a couple of them staring at me through the sliding door. They were apparently not pleased by the kidnapping and deportation of their relatives and friends. Finally, a double baffle system worked, for now. I will live to see them parachuting in from nearby trees, or marching around with a big tool belt- ready to dismantle the baffle.

I like to be in charge. I hate it when things don’t go as I planned. I stand before you. In spite of my careful planning, you have been eaten. Deer love newly sprouted hosta. Yes, the deer have to live too. Still, how much actual food value is there in a one inch tiny sprout? How can that sustain a 60 pound full grown deer? Why don’t they just munch on plants in the woods behind the house?

My little 5 square foot garden sits around and behind the mailbox. Maybe the deer think this is a fast food drive through. Well, I have news for you, deer, here comes a spray of “Deer-Be-Gone” for some new sprouts. It works great but it must be applied after every rainfall as I sadly learned last year.

While I’m at it there are a bunch of some kind of daisy crowding out other plants that are well behaved and stay in their place. Even worse these daisies are invading the lawn. They refuse to stay in the place I put them. “Perennial” is not a license to roam about the garden and yard each year. Luckily for the daisies they don’t taste good to the deer. They avoid them like broccoli.

Then there’s the front yard. It does look green and healthy from a distance. But if you look closely there a several areas of moss. Instead of staying in shaded areas the moss seems to be looking to get a nice tan in our sunny front yard. I have to admit moss has a gentle and soothing feeling when touched. It would make a nice mattress cover. I pull out a few patches of moss every time I walk by, to no avail. They seem to fight the dandelions for territory. The dandelions are rather pretty with their bright yellow blooms. But they are classified by experts as a weed, so they must go.

I realize that if all moss and weeds are removed, I would have only a few patches of grass left. So I have chosen to take a balanced approach- just enough fertilizer to help the grass grow and just enough weed and moss killer to half kill the invaders.

The holes are another story. Given the large population of chipmunks and voles I suspect there is a vast array of tunnels and critter condominiums beneath the sad turf. Filling the holes with small rocks, dirt, even gasoline doesn’t stop them. The deer and little critters often try to stare me down in the yard. They apparently think they own the place. Hey, I have a deed and I pay taxes. As I approach they walk slowly away, disgusted by my intrusion. I don’t like to think about what goes on at night when they have the place to themselves. Party time!  Or maybe they are planning their war strategy for the next day.

Even amongst the grass I spot tiny vine like leaves. Pulling them slowly up, I follow the vine all the way back to their original planting site. Like the daisies, English ivy or whatever ivy they might be are nomadic and they prefer to travel and attack others. The vines, daisies, moss and dandelions are quietly fighting it out. I wonder who would win if I didn’t intervene at all?

I am slightly cheered by a partial victory over the squirrels at the bird feeder though it was a hard fought war. Even the model that closed with the weight of the squirrel on the perch didn’t work. One little guy, from the equivalent of squirrel MIT, managed to wedge open the feeder with one paw and he ate with the other. Inspired, others soon learned the trick. Then a big barrel shaped baffle over the pole blocked most of them until one big, athletic squirrel took a running leap and made it to the top of the baffle. He was apparently training for the Squirrel Olympics.

The “Have-a-Heart-Spleen-or-Other-Organ” trap was great. I captured 38 squirrels in two weeks. They weren’t too pleased to be released in a nice park. At least I didn’t let them lose on the interstate. Unfortunately the minute I returned from each squirrel trip I was greeted by a couple of them staring at me through the sliding door. They were apparently not pleased by the kidnapping and deportation of their relatives and friends. Finally, a double baffle system worked, for now. I will live to see them parachuting in from nearby trees, or marching around with a big tool belt- ready to dismantle the baffle.

After being pushed around for the entire weekend by mother-nature, I’m off to the store to pick up a nice bottle of Chardonnay. As I prepare to exit the car I carefully place a double layer of mask on my face. The outer mask is a colorful tropical scene. I can at least make a fashion statement if I can’t control anything else in my life. I win, Corona!