Theft and a Bit of Vandalism

"MOM!"

"Yes, Colin?"

"The worst thing EVER! You gotta come and see!!"

This, you see, was the prize tomato. Formally the size and shape of Kate Moss's buttocks, nearly red, Colin had been watching it with a mixture of awe and anticipation. See, he was going to get to eat the Butt Tomato.

Well, he was, until whatever-the-hell-it-was-with-teeth-and-a-not-overly-small-jaw took the first bites. Over a few days and many more bites later, the huge tomato dwindled to a mere rotting shadow of itself. Colin was beside himself, "Mom. I'm just going to go out there and kill all of the bugs. They ATE the tomato. They can't live. I'm going to kill them all."

Well first, I had to applaud his zeal in defending the vegetables. Finally, a partner in the War on Bugs. (At least on the bugs that mess with the garden: The Squash Bugs. Also the Cucumber Beetles. But mostly the Squash Bugs.) But then I had to clue him in that the evidence disputed that the chomps were from the mouths of bugs, as there were definite teeth marks (as far as I know, bugs are completely lacking in dentition) and the bites were larger than 3 of the biggest Squash Bugs put together, end to end. Bigger than a tomato Hornworm could manage at the end of the summer. About the size a dog or raccoon or elf would make. Maybe a pixie, if it were a very large pixie.

A couple of days later, looking out the bedroom window, I noticed that the ground squirrel who has his burrow opening just to the west of the garden wall, was playing with a red something. At first I thought it was a piece of red rubber dog toy, but then, after squinting in the binoculars, I realized that he was sitting up on his haunches, chowing down on a tomato the size of his head and torso combined. You can see him below, nearly finished with the booty. (Yes, the photo is crap but my telephoto lens hasn't much tele in its photo and I had to enlarge it oh, so many times. The varmint is sitting up with his back to the right, holding up the tomato fragment, facing to the left, busily eating.)

Bastard.

Cute bastard.

He supposedly eats bugs, too, so I'm not going to touch him, of course. Suddenly the 'accidental planting' of over 20 tomato plants for the 4 of us seems like not such an absurdly large number.

And that brings us to the abduction of 2 out of 4 foxgloves that I'd planted by a bench to be enjoyed while sitting and gazing out over the pastures.

A few weeks ago, I trotted down to smile at them, and discovered nothing but a perfect, gaping hole where they'd been lovingly planted two months before. It was not like it'd been dug out. There was no dirt spray, such as would be if Molly had taken it out. The hole corresponded exactly to what I'd dug with my little trowel; the plant completely missing. No signs of it having been drug off a little ways. I searched around in the brush and bush but found nothing. I must admit that evidence of digitalis poisoning (vomiting, yellow halos surrounding the objects in one's vision, death) as evidenced by a small furry thing collapsed by a tree (with a dent the size of a small furry head in its trunk), surrounded by its last meal, partially digested, would have done my heart good. But all I found was the second missing foxglove with identical evidence of removal. The two remaining ones just sat there, smiling at me. Maybe they got tired of the banal banter of the 'missing' two and hired the thug deer.

Finally, the week before last, someone seems to have come by and without any warning or by-your-leave, stolen our nice, paved road. Maybe they needed it over in the next county, but we do miss our road and hope they return it soon. Can't imagine what the snow plow will do to a gravel surface. It's already getting nicely rutted. Soon, it will be deeply grooved, what with all the tractors and cattle trailers that use it.



And the vandalism?

Seems the turkeys took a liking to the late season raspberries but not the kids' slide, taking a large dump all over the platfrom:



With 8 acres to choose a toilet from, why was this surface so attractive? It's even splintery.