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Thwarting the Great Garden Heist

6/21/2013

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PictureNothing but net.
We have thieves in our neighborhood.

... Four-legged, skittish and fluffy.

... Four-legged, lumbering and plump.

... Two-legged, quick and feathered.

Some are shy and secretive: Sneaking in the dead of night.

Some are bold and brash: Snatching in broad daylight.

Others prefer the never-never land of twilight when we can’t quite make out what’s moving outside the window.

What my husband, Kevin, and I do know is that whenever we’re not looking, juneberries and honeyberries disappear. Poof!

Squash plants and pole beans get nibbled. Munch!

Thai eggplant, lovingly nurtured since March 1 have been whittled to pathetic stems that I’m trying to convince myself can still recover.

The strawberries, heavily sprayed with smelly deterrents, have escaped relatively unscathed, with most of this year’s damage coming from molds and slugs and snails. But, even still, a half-eaten red seeded carcass greeted us one morning on the sidewalk near the back door.

I’m ever so grateful when I hear other gardeners’ horror stories about deer that our property is so near downtown that these voracious eaters don’t bother us. As yet, rabbits haven’t been a problem, either.

But squirrels and birds and woodchucks do enough damage. Our resident groundhog has grown so brazen, he stands for long minutes on his hind legs near the side door, surveying where he should take his next meal.

Kevin keeps trying to steal around the back of the house and bop him in the noggin with a rock, but that little bandit moves fast when necessary. (I’m not exactly sure what we’d do if the rock ever connected, but it’s fun to see Kevin’s Bugs Bunny impression.)

In the meantime, I’m just glad the roughage rustler keeps to the backyard and hasn’t ventured near the lettuce or bush beans.

To forestall him when he does, I’ve drizzled noxious spray on everything I fear he or the squirrels may enjoy: Squash, beans, soybeans, corn, berries, eggplant stalks. (For our own enjoyment, I’ve left the lettuce alone.)

We also scurried to cover the laden sour cherry tree with a net after I spied fluttering wings deep within its branches. Having lost last year’s crop to a late frost, we’re not taking chances.

Next, we have to do the same for the peach trees and remaining berries.

Then it’s time to set up a neighborhood watch.


Picture
Stay away birds -- no perches necessary.
                                                                                              -Mary
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Up on the Roof

6/1/2013

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PicturePreparing for the here rafter.
I’m not great at heights.

My throat tenses. My stomach flip-flops. My hands get clammy. My overall wooziness quotient rises.

And, I tend to freeze. Can’t go forward. Can’t go back.

I just cling.

To the ladder. To the tree limb. To the tractor bucket.

Basically, my body puts on the brakes and tries its best to convince my brain that getting down would be a far healthier course of action and might even lead to a long life.

In contrast, my husband, Kevin, is as nimble as a goat. Periodically, he’ll climb out an upstairs window to clean the gutters and fearlessly scamper from roof to roof removing leaves and other detritous. Before I know he’s even out there, he’s back inside safe and sound.

He assures me that there’s no reason to fear.

Silly man.

It’s not as if I control my reactions.

Earlier this spring, Kevin envisioned an alternative way to grow our pole beans: Let them climb up twine attached to the roofline at the back of the house. They could grow as tall as they pleased all summer long, creating a wall of greenery that might even serve to cool the kitchen and laundry room, which tend to bake when the Dog Days linger.

In fall, when the pods have dried, we can cut down the vines and shell delicious beans for soups and casseroles.

I was intrigued, but I left the logistics to him.

We bought strong hemp twine and sturdy screw-eye hooks. Kevin measured the distance from eaves to peak to eaves and calculated how far apart to space the hooks.

He gathered his tools and materials — awl, measuring tape, screw eyes — and asked: “Can you come out and help me?”

I knew it’d be tough for him to juggle all of those things while reaching over the roof edge ... so I agreed.

We always help each other. It’s what we do.

So out I climbed through the window onto the flat roof over the sunporch. Not so bad, I thought. I can do this.

Then he clambered onto the roof over the dining room. (He had brought a chair out for me to serve as a step up over the gutter to the next level of the staggered roof, chivalrous man.)

Up I went.

I could feel my shoes grip the shingles as I followed him and neared the peak.

Soon he was at the edge and settled himself down.

Me?

My throat was tensing. My stomach was flip-flopping. My hands were growing clammy. And, my head was lightening as my feet stopped moving.

I sat down beside the chimney, about halfway across the roof.

And clung.

There was no going forward. There was no going back.

One look and he knew, dear man, that this was the end of the line.

“I’m sorry,” I offered.


PictureIf you're so inclined.
Somehow he juggled the awl, the measuring tape, two packages of those hooks.

And managed to affix 26 screw eyes while I watched helplessly from 10 feet away.

I’m not great at heights.

Thank goodness Kevin is.

                                                                                            — Mary

1 Comment

    Kevin & Mary Schoonover

    In addition to art, Mary and Kevin are turning their front lawn into an edible landscape garden.

    Mary's "Front & Center" thoughts appear in purple; Kevin's are in blue.

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