Friday September 23rd 2011 Tim Candler
In the end it's all
about compost. Good soil is alive and one of its inhabitants here
where I live is the Mole. They are giants, like Elephant slippers,
slithering underground, and they especially like good soil because
that's where the digging is easy and worms are fat as fingers.
Sometime ago I thought about a Mole
fence. This was shot down as ludicrous by the nearest and dear.
Then with the Grey Cat gone Rabbit have laughed at my pathetic attempts
to keep them out of the Vegetable Garden. And in the field
last night, five younger Deer staring in our direction, waiting for the
lights to go out because they know that's when The Barking Artist and
her loud blue umbrella retire for the night.
Such creatures I can manage,
because the damage they do comes under the title of 'nibbling'.
The odd plant falls to Mole or the Mole Hunter, Rabbits like Chard and
Beans, most birds will sample red fruiting bodies, Possums can climb, Mice
and their relatives I will insist eat nothing but Stinkbugs, and Deer have
not yet been hungry enough to leap fences for food.
But this year I accepted advice from the
one who lives too far away. I used a fungicide upon the Tomatoes.
Somewhere I have in excess of forty quarts of tomato in glass cans, and the
bloody plants are still producing.