01 Oct 2012 No Comments
Remember the horrible squash washout? The one where someone–Mother Nature, mystery visitor or something–washed the end of my squash row to nothing?
Well, I solved the mystery. I didn’t tell you, but it happened again. Twice. The first time I thought it may have been the rain, but the second?
No way. No rain. No thunderstorms. Impossible. Then last night, as I was driving off for a lovely dinner with my Hunny Bunny (aka husband), I noticed my neighbor’s sprinklers running. The light went on–ding, ding, ding!
I racked my brain to see if I could remember when these washouts occurred. Wednesday, Thursday? It’s often hard to locate any single, particular thought in my brain, and last night proved no different. Brain wasn’t cooperating. Until I realized I did know the day for at least one event–the cousins were over for a play date/garden chore date and it was a Sunday. The other times were middle of the week, and even though I couldn’t recall exactly when, I believed I had my answer. If I found a washout in the morning, I knew the culprit.
Sure enough, strolled out this morning and the entire end of the row had flooded my walkway. I turned to my son. “Honey, run get mom the transfer shovel!” We’ve got work to do. Work I didn’t want to have to do–again. Gardening was supposed to be a joy, not a chore.
Coincidentally, my neighbor walked down for a garden visit and I thought, just the person I want to talk to. As she strolled up to the fence, I told her, “I think you have a broken sprinkler.”
“Yep.” I pointed down around to the squash row. “Right about there.”
After I explained in more detail, she tested said sprinkler zone and sure enough…
We have a broken sprinkler head. (Call me Sherlock!) My son took full advantage. Looks fun, doesn’t it?
Told you gardening was an adventure. And speaking of Sherlock, did I tell you that I think I solved the Brussels sprouts mystery?
Yep. It’s a bunny. Dear husband neglected to tell me that he saw one traipsing in the woods behind my garden when he mowed the lawn couple of weeks back. One of my blog readers clued me in (thank you Jenny!) to the likely suspect. Said if I’m not careful, “picky eater” will turn in to “voracious eater” and consume the entire garden!
Not in my backyard. I’ve sprinkled a mix of garlic and chili powder over the leaves to deter such wretched behavior. “Mr. Bunny, you have twenty acres of woods behind you. I’m sure you can find something suitable to eat back there.” And stay OUT of my garden.
I turned to my sweet baby-dog neighbor and said, “Hope we don’t see that little varmint any time soon.”
Max agreed. As did pumpkin Potter. “Woof!”
Aren’t they gorgeous?
Um, excuse me. Did you forget someone?
Oops. Sorry Millie. You’re gorgeous, too.