An English In Kentucky



















August 8th 2009

    I mentioned a mole barrier.  I described its intricacies and subtleties.  So enthused I became that I decided to include the entire vegetable garden.  One hundred and sixty feet of trench dug two feet into the ground, one hundred and sixty feet of galvanized fabric, months of winter work to keep a person warm.

    There was polite response.  That sort of smiling encouragement given to eccentric enterprise from those who are properly occupied.  Also there was agreement that my efforts might produce a lasting solution, so long as my assumptions concerning mole behavior were close to accurate.



    I allowed my mind to play around the circumferences of the project in search of problem areas.  The apple trees, the buddleia, the gates.  On and on I went in the dour manner of a man who has in his head a slide-rule.  Each new hour produced increments or problem solving, which of course I shared in every minute detail.  And yes, there is always the chance that moles in dead of night pack the suitcase, put on their walking boots, then tip-toe over unfavorable terrain. 

    Yesterday, under strong sun,  I noticed considerable mowing of grass pathways, raking of grass and stamping down of mole runs.  This morning when I came down stairs the kitchen was empty.  A lesson, I thought, for those who choose to exercise at three in the afternoon during the month of August.  But there she was, amongst the vegetables, victorious and still prowling.

    In such moments heroes are made.   

tim candler

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(Moles)  (chatter sound technology