Don't Fence Me In...

         Since last spring I have been attempting to erect a wooden fence around my garden. I never realized what a laborious task it was. To give you an idea how long it has taken the wood that I had purchased at Home Depot is already taking on an aged, light gray tint.

         It all started with the remains of a zucchini vine laying there as if it was the skeletal frame of a taradactyl. The leaves picked clean from the white stem. It was then I realized I was harboring a four legged, vegetable loving diner, now bellying up to the salad bar of delight. Who knows perchance my own lop eared rabbit Basil, who watches guard every night over my beds, probably was cheering him on.

         Not to be "one up'd" by my new garden guest I put into action my Windfall relocation plan. Borrowing a "Have a Heart" trap, (sorry to take the liberty on the spelling but that is the way they should have named it), from my old neighbor, Florence, I laid out the best repast over presented on the overlook of the garden. A meal fit for a king. Bright greens, snap peas, all laced with a chunky peanut butter. This way I knew if he was a vegetarian I could appeal to his appetite. Worse case he was allergic to nuts and I only needed to find a shovel.

         Two nights and the Inn sat empty. On the third morning I crept up to my miniature bed & breakfast only to find a chubby, lip smeared peanut butter, hedgehog looking very angry that I had outfoxed him at his own game. Gently, I approached, lifting the cage to the rear of my pickup, edged on my now by my "mad as hell" rodent.

          The Windfall relocation program consists of a short tour over a bumpy road, traveling now deep into the woods and then softly ending its way to a quiet glen. No identities were changed. In fact the land around our local landfill were robust with offerings, creeks to explore and who knows maybe a plethora of female chucks just eager to hear my new tenants tales on how he fought the giant and by the way do they like peanut butter? 

          Several days later, I thought my visitor came back. Perhaps he had guests? Maybe bringing a forest full of hungry vegemites. "Come on over", I can hear him say, "Best damn heirloom zucchinis in the Quiet Corner." Though my garden was not plummeted, the peas took a beaten. Once again I reopened my "Have A Heart" eatery for the forlorn and desolate. This time evidently my menu was more appealing. On the next morning old Peter possum was snearing up through the cage. And so my travel program continued however, this time as I was riding home sans "pet", I realized that they got the best of me. I realized that the odds of my next find would probably have stripes, a stronger cologne and a lasting scent.

         Now it’s late September, the geese are flying overhead. The garde is still full of tomatoes. Evidently tomatoes are not part of the local flair. Fall is chasing the seasons and the leaves, which have turned a scarlet red are looking very nice nestling up to my unfinished, gray fence.