Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
And on the seventh night, the deer came back, and ate my beans again.
So we finally sucked it up and spent $150 on another "tier" of 4-foot-high welded wire fencing, and it took us three hours, 7pm-10pm last night, to wrestle it up into place, and the stapler kept jamming, and both Patrick's and my fingers are shredded, our arms and back are killing us, we are battle scarred, but the DEER STAYED OUT last night. And honestly, unless they evolve into heli-deer, or subterrane-deer, or start using drones, there is no possible way they are going to get through THIS fence.
Why it took us me THREE WEEKS to finally come around to doing something FINAL, I don't know. At this point I've probably spent at least another $150 on wire, vinyl coated cable, piddly 36-inch stakes: stuff that didn't work. Stuff that wasn't enough. We should've gone big from the beginning, because the brutal truth is that once the deer know what's inside, there will be no stopping them. They broke stakes. They bit through wire, string. Jumped up and down on the diagonal pieces that support the perimeter wire, until the perimeter wire snapped and they could crawl in-- literally crawl-- over one line of defense and under another.
Sigh. Lesson learned. Another one to add to the heap, along with this year's other lesson of no longer letting the chickens free range. Free range= free lunch, so we have learned. And a might do the trick fence= a won't do the trick fence.
But anyway, enough about that. The trials are over, unless there are heli-deer.
Meanwhile, the flower beds are looking fiine. Meanwhile, one of our four apple trees (a golden transparent) has two apples on it that are ripening. And meanwhile, Pete has appointed himself Berry Guardian, making it his mission to lurk amongst the raspberry canes and launch himself at the birds who fly in to eat the berries.
And while I frown on bird-eating cats, if my grey furry mister keeps birds out the berry patch, well...