Monday, October 17, 2005, 20:36
Vanished!
As I stood next to my three rows of carrots, I felt like blinking and rubbing my eyes.
Only a couple of weeks ago, three full rows of carrots were growing in my garden. But now, three-quarters of one row is gone and about one-fourth of the other two rows are missing.
We have eaten a few carrots raw, and I have pulled a few to make a carrot cake. But other than that, we haven't used any carrots out of the garden. So the question is --
WHAT HAPPENED TO MY CARROTS!?
Upon closer inspection, I ascertained that not only were the tops gone, but so were the carrots themselves. And in some places where the carrots were not gone, the tops that remained had been nibbled.
I spent all summer weeding the carrots so I would be sure I could find them in the fall (foxtail that's as tall as me will take over the garden if I don't keep after it) -- and now almost half of my carrots are missing?
A few years ago, a pocket gopher was digging in the garden, and the gopher managed to eat most of my carrots. My husband, Randy, finally caught him the next spring in the barn, of all places, when we were cleaning out the space where we store hay. He had to dig a hole that was practically big enough for a basement -- but he caught that gopher.
Could a pocket gopher be responsible for my missing carrots this year? A pocket gopher was digging in the lawn not far from the garden this summer, although my husband kept setting pocket gopher traps until he finally caught it. Could another gopher have started digging under the garden without our knowledge? Maybe so.
Another possibility I thought of are deer. Several times this summer we sat in the backyard at sunset and watched deer come out in the hayfield right behind the barn, and that's only a few feet from the garden. I also suspect that it was a deer who ate off all the wild rose buds off a bush planted not far from the garden. I was *so* looking forward to a wild rose bush covered with pink blossoms, too. But then one morning in June when I looked at the rose bush, every last bud had been nipped off. So maybe a deer ate my carrots.
Still another possibility -- although farfetched and not very likely -- is that the horses have somehow figured out how to open their gates and let themselves out, have lunched on carrots, and then have put themselves back into the pasture and chained the gates shut again. But if that's the case, they have far more willpower than I would have imagined because they would have to walk across the drainfield to get to the garden, and right now, the grass is so thick over the drainfield that it's practically shin deep on me. And I can't imagine that either Isabelle or Kajun has the willpower to pass up juicy, lush, green grass. Seeing as nothing has been eating the grass over the drainfield, I really do think that lets the horses off the hook.
Which brings me back to either a gopher or a deer -- or maybe a gopher *and* a deer.
All I know is that I'm not going to have nearly as many carrots to freeze as I thought I would. I pulled some this morning, rinsed them off with the hose, cut off the tops -- and now they're sitting in a bucket, waiting for me to peel them, cut them up, cook them and freeze them.
And here I thought my carrots were going to be the one thing that did especially well in the garden this year.
Right.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Monday, October 17, 2005, 02:43
Another Gorgeous Day
Sunday was another gorgeous October day here in west central Wisconsin. Bright blue sky. Plenty of sunshine. Temperature in the mid-60s. Trees turning brilliant shades of orange and red and yellow and russet. I can hardly believe the string of beautiful days we've been having this fall. For the most part, it has been warm and sunny and pleasant.
And that's what making me nervous.
I don't know how people in other parts of the country feel about it, but around here, we always get nervous when there's lots of nice fall weather. We get a feeling of waiting for "the other shoe to drop" -- a feeling that we will have to "pay" for the nice weather at some point -- a feeling that the payback is not going to be all that much fun -- a feeling that when the temperature drops, the bottom is going to fall out of it -- a feeling that when the snow flies, it's going to fly double-time.
In thinking back, this is not always the case. After a nice fall, we sometimes get a mild winter with an average amount of snow. But that doesn't stop me from feeling nervous. What *is* that, anyway? This feeling that we do not necessarily deserve to enjoy nice weather?
I don't know where that feeling comes from. But I know I'm going to continue to enjoy the nice fall weather while it lasts. Because the snow *will* fly. Maybe not for a while. And maybe not as much as I'm afraid it will. But the cold weather is coming. And so is the snow.
LeAnn R. Ralph