While Chris is renovating the farmhouse, I've been working on a garden. We visit the farm about every other day and it has been fascinating watching things pop up seemingly overnight. This trip, we had a completely different reaction.
Something ate my green beans!
This varmint even ate pepper plants!
I cried when I saw the zucchini and the squash.
6 beautiful plants, each full and healthy and showing bright blossoms just two days ago...gone.
We sat on the porch, Chris comforting me as I lamented all of the hours invested in the now-destroyed garden and wondering if it was even worth continuing to care for the rest of the garden. And then we saw him. A head pop up out of the blackberry bushes beside the garden. It was Phil.
Phil was a fat, adorable groundhog that we met on the farm last year when we began renovations on the cottage. He bumbled around the farm with his nose twitching nervously whenever we spotted him. Chris wanted to get rid of him then, but I begged him not to. It was our new farm house and Phil was a built in mascot!
We watched from the porch as Phil decided the coast was clear and ran into the garden. He must have given the signal because next from the blackberry bush, popped his wife, Phyllis. She ran happily into the garden to join him.
And then? His daughter Philomena joined them. There were 3 fat groundhogs eating my garden!
It's amazing what a year can do to one's perspective.
Phil was not a mascot. Nor was his family. Phil was a pest. Phil was target practice.
Something ate my green beans!
This varmint even ate pepper plants!
I cried when I saw the zucchini and the squash.
6 beautiful plants, each full and healthy and showing bright blossoms just two days ago...gone.
We sat on the porch, Chris comforting me as I lamented all of the hours invested in the now-destroyed garden and wondering if it was even worth continuing to care for the rest of the garden. And then we saw him. A head pop up out of the blackberry bushes beside the garden. It was Phil.
Phil was a fat, adorable groundhog that we met on the farm last year when we began renovations on the cottage. He bumbled around the farm with his nose twitching nervously whenever we spotted him. Chris wanted to get rid of him then, but I begged him not to. It was our new farm house and Phil was a built in mascot!
We watched from the porch as Phil decided the coast was clear and ran into the garden. He must have given the signal because next from the blackberry bush, popped his wife, Phyllis. She ran happily into the garden to join him.
And then? His daughter Philomena joined them. There were 3 fat groundhogs eating my garden!
It's amazing what a year can do to one's perspective.
Phil was not a mascot. Nor was his family. Phil was a pest. Phil was target practice.
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