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I used to have 3 bushy coleus.
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And then I noticed they’d been nibbled.
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Every morning when I woke up they were a little smaller.
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Until all that was left were the nubs. It’s not woodchucks, and this tiny garden bed is right alongside the kitchen door by the garage, the deer won’t come in that close.
An unidentified muncher.
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Who left me one leaf to remember them by.
😨
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Moving around the corner of the house with the husband’s new toy….
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More shrubbery was tamed. (Yes, I’m aware we’re missing a few shutters. They’re in the garage, where they’ve been since they blew off the house 4 years ago. That’s how long I’ve been bugging the husband to put them back up. 😖 )
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And in the other corner?
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The flowering quince bush from Hell. I annually curse whoever planted this abomination of a plant.
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Every year we wack it down.
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And every year it grows back up to the roofline. If we let it go unchecked? I believe it would swallow the house in one gulp.
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It’s pretty when it blooms, and yes….
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It produces (inedible) quince fruit, but it’s an utter nightmare the rest of the year. Did I mention the beast is also full of thorns? Good times when you have to gather it up, stuff it in a garden cart and haul it down to the woods, over and over again.
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The woods that are wayyyy down there. At times it seemed like the trimming would never end.
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But we finally got it down to the last few branches.
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Before….
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And many sweaty hours after….
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Is it pretty? No.
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Heck, with the husband wielding the trimmer it isn’t even straight. But it’s smaller… and we can see out the windows again.
That’s a win when battling demonic shrubbery.
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The husband came home with a new toy last weekend.
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And before I knew it or could grab a good before picture…
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He’d trimmed an unruly hedge.
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And moved on to the next.
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These bushes can get out of hand quickly, and I trim them every fall. The husband always gave me Hell for bringing the trimmer in the office and cutting from an open window, but it was the only way I could reach. He ranted about how dangerous it was, how much of a mess it made…. and for years on end told me it wasn’t necessary.
You know where I’m going with this right?
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Yes.
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Once again I was proved right.
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And trimming through the open office window commenced.
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But the shrubbery was nicely shaped so I didn’t rub it in.
Well, not much.
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Most of the time the Facebook ‘memory’ feature annoys me, but last week it flashed back to this day 8 years ago and I had to laugh.
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Because 8 years ago that day our farming neighbor’s goats broke free and headed straight to our house. Have you ever tried to herd goats? As our neighbor will tell you…
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It’s not a one man job. We chased them around our property for quite a while and got nowhere, but with reinforcements we eventually managed to shoo them back home.
In other news, I saw this and had to share.
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Now that’s what I call mother’s revenge.
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Scrabble. Even with letters like that I reigned supreme and won the game.
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We have a dying shrub and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why. We planted it 18 years ago and have never had an issue.
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Then I looked underneath it one day and saw the giant woodchuck burrow. Mystery solved.
😡
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I do.
I really do…
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Remember my pretty little petunia?
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It’s not pretty anymore.
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And my colorful little leftover flower bed?
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Not nearly as colorful now.
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Yes, the baby woodchucks are on the move and munching their way through my gardens… not to mention my wallet.
Cute? Yes. But cuteness will only get them so far.
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I spread this around my garden today and if it doesn’t work?
I may have to invite the real thing for dinner. ( Kidding, but tempting.)
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Last weekend my husband installed the downspout on our new back deck guttering.
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For some reason (Far be it for me to question his process. But I did… and was told to go back in the house) he decided to reroute the water’s path and secured the spout to the side of the corner post instead of the front.
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He was proud of how it turned out.
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And while it passed the water test as far as leaks go…
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With liquid gushing out the end freely….
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I did take issue with the placement.
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Because, call me crazy….
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But unless the rain is going to hook a 90 degree turn and drain into the pipe as it’s supposed to…. we’re going to have a mess.
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You never know what serious news stories will be discussed on my town’s Facebook page. The economy? Yes. Climate change? Sure. But I live in Maine…. so likely as not? It will be this:
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Bear poop beats the G-7 Summit any day.
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The conversation got heated and had to be removed by admin. We take our poo identification seriously up here.
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Now that’s my kind of neighbors.
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Someone is selling peony blossoms for $3 a pop?
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Woot!
I’m going to be rich.
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I’ve read that the cost of rental cars had gone up, but $3,000 for a week?
That’s beyond insane.
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It had been a while since we visited our farming neighbors across the road, so the other day we took a walk.
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Unfortunately they weren’t home, but we took the time to check out what was happening on their farm. There’s something about strolling through verdant fields of crops that just makes me smile.
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Every time we visit there’s something new.
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This time it was a veritable village of greenhouses.
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These seemingly sprung up overnight, with full irrigation… which must have been quite a feat.
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A house addition was under way as well.
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Why was there a skeleton prominently displayed on the barn wall? It’s probably better if we don’t ask.
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Ugh. I suppose a row of kale was inevitable.
🤢
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There’s our Barn Mahal/man cave in the background.
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We never realize how much it dominates the landscape until we see it from far away. Oops.
☺️
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On our way out we had to stop by the farm stand they opened when Covid shut down most of their markets.
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And naturally we came home with a few things.
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Lettuce, spinach, potatoes and blueberry yogurt. You can’t get much fresher than that.
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I was not pleased.
Not at all pleased to find the marigolds everyone told me to plant to because animals hate them flowers I’d so lovingly tended were being beheaded.
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My first thought was woodchucks because those little devils have decimated my gardens in the past. So I liberally sprayed everything with coyote urine. ( Helpful hint – don’t do this on a windy afternoon like yours truly. People will shun you for days.)
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The next morning?
Another beheading.
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The day after that? Two.
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Third day? Three decapitations and multiple plants nibbled down to nubs.
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I was livid and rethinking my woodchucks are so cute! policy. Until….
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I watched a mouse come out from under the baby barn and try to drag a marigold blossom in. Mice? Since when do mice eat marigolds? Do I have a mutant strain of blossom munching rodents nesting in our lawn mowers? Turns out I do, and though I never ever resort to poison?
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When I found multiple piles of rodent poo, I did. No mutant mouse is going to nest in the husband’s new $5,000 zero turn tractor. Uh uh. Not happening.
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The new guttering installation continued and moved to the back deck.
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Where a lovely rose I planted last year is starting to bloom.
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And since things were not going smoothly with said installation….
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I concentrated on the gardening.
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Look… my first gay feather!
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Installation complete, it was time for the hose.
The water test did not go well.
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Not well at all ….
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So…. peonies!
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And Lord Dudley Mountcatten who was watching water leak from the gutters through an open window. When the cursing started, I moved around front.
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To the old stone garden bed under the crabapple tree the previous owners had made. I added some hostas and New Guinea impatiens this year.
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And constantly wonder why they didn’t use the same size stones all the way around.
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