A Shift in Tactics

Dear Blog Reader.

I hope that this finds you doing well. I . . .  Well as expected life finds me having my ups and downs. Life can't always be a bed of roses. Can it? Even when married to the lovely Miss Beverly the good can turn south and take a detour through "that smarts-ville." It has been a glorious Independence Day week; especially if you gloss over the fact that the N ational S chool A dvocates is reading this nice tome. Also, they listened in on the three telephone conversations that I had today. So the "advocates" know that we are eating watermelon when company comes over tomorrow evening and that the "cows" got "out" onto the road.

In spite of this intrusion, Independence Day was celebrated with great gusto by the denizens of Ingalls, the neighboring small town. Our patriotic fervor was tamped down last year by the drought and the precautions that the Nanny State put on us to keep us safe from ourselves. I, for one, welcomed such common sense restrictions. You see. Our farm  is the northern border to Ingalls. We are the only barrier keeping the hill-jacks that live in this tiny little burg from invading Canada and thus saving the unfortunate from doing the jobs that Canadians don't want to do.

Ingallites have looked North for eighty years and seen fortress Sharritt. Beyond those fences they have seen wide open fields perfect for aiming their bottle rockets and star burst mortars. Last year while they would have seen the afore mentioned fields, they would have actually been targeting acres and acres of tinder dry vegetation. It would have gone up with a whoosh. So I am glad to let them shoot at us this year after they forsook their immediate gratification last year in the name of safety.

This 4th of July is a watershed of sorts at the Sharritt's. In a normal year, our garden would have been lost to the weeds. I would have planted the cold weather crops; kale, peas, spinach, arugula, etc. Things would have been proceeding nicely. The really tough weeds; pigweed, jimpson weed, crab grass, Canadian thistle, would have not caused any problems. They need heat to germinate and thrive. So I would have had phenomenal success; good crops with little work. Late May would arrive; I would go to the seed store, buy my tomato plants, and bean seed. They would go into the garden and proceed to be out competed by their noxious brethren.  I would make a lame attempt from time to time.  I would wonder out with a hoe and take a whack or two at it.  I would trudge back to the house after 15 minutes or so with blistered hands and a sore back. Disgusted with self loathing, I would go back out over the 4th holiday armed with a weed eater. My plan? I would cut the weeds just at the top of the crops, hoping some light might penetrate the canopy, and I might get a couple of beans or a cucumber.

I vowed that this year would be different. I vowed that this year, I would have a Amish child garden. I witnessed the Amish child garden phenomenon five years ago. Ben went to skate boarding camp out in Pennsylvania. Ironically, we drove through a large part of Amish country on the way to skate board heaven. While driving, I noticed farm after farm with huge gardens that had no weeds at all in them. They were perfectly clean; except for the dirt. They had large healthy vegetable plants producing veggies. How did they do it? I pondered the question for mile after mile. Finally, it struck me. They did it with Amish children. Children at home with no skateboards, wii's, smart phones, would get bored. How do you cure boredom? You send them out to the garden to do jobs that Americans refuse to do.

My Amish child garden holy grail was born. It has taken me five years of dedication, failure, and rededication. This year it has paid off. I really think that is because I have gotten into good enough shape riding bike that the first 15 minutes of hoeing didn't make me feel like I was going to die. I have arrived at the 4th of July and I have an Amish child garden; lush, beautiful, beans, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, potatoes. I have row after row of onions, historically unable to out compete the weeds because of their spindly " leaves."

That is the up; now for the down. The deer have found my garden. I sensed that it was coming. I had seen a friend's cautionary Facebook post last week that deer had eaten nearly all of their beets. For the uninitiated, beets are those vegetables that Americans refuse to eat. That is because they were forced to eat canned beets bathed in this heavy syrup by cruel, nazi, lunch, ladies in elementary school. Beets straight out of the garden, boiled, with a little salt are wonderful. To the beet beginner, they are the food that keeps on giving in the bathroom so to speak. Try it you'll see. The deer have  started eating my beets too, depriving me of the reward for my hard Amish child work.

Obviously, the assassin deer have changed tactics. Those new to "You Said What Roger?" may not understand the phrase assassin deer. They are a group of human stalking deer dedicated to killing and maiming humans in retaliation for being hunted into the brink of proliferation by hunters and ran down by cars. It is a well documented phenomena. Skeptical? Google Assassin deer roger sharritt. You'll see. They were first noticed a couple of years ago. They would stalk bicyclists; periodically throwing themselves at Gopro wearing cyclists. I have had to counter attack, with wild screaming and gesticulations with a maniacal gleam in my eye, three times as they came to the road gauging my speed and direction for a frontal assault.  For the past six months, they have been mostly thwarted and, until this change in tactics, silent.

Now, they are targeting gardeners. Hoping to starve us out, they are eating our produce. This

first attack on the beets is devastating on two fronts. It deprives us of the sugary sweetness that is the beet and demoralizes us since we do not get to enjoy the reward for all of our sweat and toil. It won't stop there. In a week or two they will attack the beans leaving nothing except the inedible ends that we would have broken off anyway. We can expect them to enlist the help of their raccoon brethren in a brazen attack on the sweet corn. Oh the humanity. Where will it end? I am guessing that it will end with the zucchini. No force of nature can overcome the zucchini.

As you can see on the captured enemy map, they have used the six month lull in hostilities to

scout our positions. We must assume that this campaign will be repeated where ever the deer and the antelope "play".Stay calm. We will adjust. We know their plans. It is just another battle in a long war. In the mean time, can you pick me up some beets at farmer's market.

Take care

Roger