#)@% Rabbit

All has not been so wonderful in the garden this week. The black-eyed peas popped right out of the ground almost as soon as I planted them. While that was happening, the #)@% rabbit was on the other side of the garden, eating the butter peas that had sprouted a few days earlier. I'd also planted green beans in the "skips" in the green bean rows, and he ate those, too, and even nibbled at the older beans. I actually caught him doing it.

I yelled, "Heyyyy...GET OUT OF HERE!" He made a dash for the woods, but stopped about 10 feet from the tree-line, and turned his profile to me. I knew he was eyeing me out of the one beady eye that was turned toward me. I hollered at him again. He just sat there. All the hollering drew the dog to the garden. I pointed at the rabbit. "Bailey, there's a rabbit. GET HIM! Get the rabbit!" He just panted and wagged. Finally, the rabbit moved. Bailey saw it out of the corner of his eye. He shot in that direction like he'd been fired from a cannon. Alas, the rabbit was too quick.

Pop-Pop also heard the yelling and sauntered out to the garden to discover the cause of the commotion. I showed him the damage. While we were standing there, contemplating what to do, ANOTHER rabbit hopped out of the field to the south of the garden, and leisurely made his way across the corner of the yard. Pop-Pop studied the situation and said, "Maybe y'ought to dust 'em." I went to the shed for the pesticide powder (hate using the stuff, but I didn't have any better ideas), and sprinkled every bean plant in the garden.

Apparently, it worked. Apparently, rabbits are smarter than humans and won't eat stuff that has poison on it. No more beans are missing.

As the vegetable garden is on auto pilot for a few days, I decided to have a go at the yard today. There is (was) a Carolina Jessamine growing near my front porch. I have tried to train it up the porch post, but it preferred to go the other direction and climb all over the boxwoods, instead. It was a huge, tangled mess, and I decided it was time for it to go. I got out the loppers and snipped the thing off at the ground, then I grabbed the vines and started pulling. Boy, was it ever wrapped in the boxwoods. After some gentle (but unproductive) tugging, I gave the vine a good yank, and when it came loose, I sailed through the air on my back for about 6 feet, then fell flat, right into my heap of vine rubble and boxwood clippings. Lost both of my shoes and my hat. My husband happened to be standing on the porch, watching. To his credit, there was only a slight delay before he stopped laughing and came to help me up.

I'm feeling a little stiff in the get-along, already. :\