Wor'some Critters

We’re not having such terrific luck with the stuff we planted in the garden last Saturday.   One of the tomato plants has died, and another one looks ill. Both of Nanny’s squash plants bit the dust – just shriveled up and died. The two cucumber plants don’t look much better.

Since it started to rain on us while we were working in the garden Saturday, I did not have a chance that day to plant any of the seeds I’d bought. Tuesday afternoon I went back to the garden to plant some of the seeds. I planted seven “hills” of crookneck squash, two hills of zucchini, two more hills of cucumbers, and two half-rows of okra. Wednesday afternoon I went back to check on things, only to discover that something had dug up (and apparently had eaten) all of the squash, zucchini, and cucumber seeds. “Birds might be scratchin’ up your seeds,” Pop-Pop offered.  I re-planted all of the hills while Pop-Pop and The Husband strapped a trail-cam to a hose cart and set it in the squash row to see if we could photograph the culprit in the act. By yesterday afternoon, something had dug up the seeds AGAIN. I took the SD card out of the trail-cam and popped it into the laptop to look at the pictures. Most of the pictures were of Pop-Pop waving his walking cane to see if the camera was working. The final picture was, at first, unrecognizable, just a series of light and dark gray streaks.

(Ignore the date/time stamp.  It's wrong.)

“What in the world...,” I muttered.

The Husband looked over my shoulder. “Looks like the camera got jiggled while it was taking a picture,” he said.

I looked at the picture for a few more seconds, and then gave a little gasp. “Or is that a close-up of something’s fur?”

If it was fur, it was on the side or tail of some animal that was at least waist high, else it was the belly fur of some shorter animal that had reared up on its hind legs directly in front of the camera.
I showed the picture to Pop-Pop. “Looks like fur to me,” he said, “probably a ‘coon or a ‘possum.”

"Or a Sasquatch," I thought to myself.

I re-planted *one* hill of squash and set the trail-cam to point directly at that hill. I’ll check it later today. If the offender turns out to be a ‘coon or a ‘possum, tonight I’ll offer him a nice bowl of tasty seeds nestled inside a live trap; there are some boys around here who will be glad to dispose of whatever we catch.

I hope Pop-Pop is right about it being a 'coon or 'possum, for I don’t know how we’d go about catching a Sasquatch.

* * * * * *

The fava beans I planted back in February have long, fat pods on them. I picked one yesterday and shelled it to see if it was mature, and it appeared to be. I’ll go back later today and get the rest of the ones that are ready. The thing is, I don’t really know what to do with fava beans. In Italy, we were served fava beans for a snack in a wine bar. They had been marinated in a tangy, oily brine, and had a color and texture much like garbanzo beans. We ate them like peanuts. When I popped the first one into my mouth, the waitress shrieked and commenced babbling something in Italian that I didn’t understand. Then she showed me how to peel the thin, slightly bitter skins off the beans before eating them. I’ve searched the web for recipes and techniques. Some folks say to take the skin off the beans, some say leave it on. I’ll try it both ways.
Many of the fava bean recipes I found were salads. One recipe called for smashing the beans to make something resembling pesto or hummus and spreading it on crusty bread. I’m thinking that I might try warming a handful or two in a skillet with olive oil, garlic, chopped scallions, and maybe some roasted red pepper.  Mmmm.