Monday, February 8, 2016

I’m squirreling away gardening lessons, keeping bushy-tailed critters happy and fed



Winter 2012

Soon after we moved to Moscow, Idaho, I set up our bird feeders. Four golden-brown squirrels quickly laid claim to our yard. They divided the territory among them, with two leading raids on the backyard feeders and the other pair practicing acrobatics in the front-yard apple tree. For awhile, those four little rodents bulked up so much that I could hear small branches creaking when they shimmied up the trees. After I wised up and bought squirrel-proof feeders, they lost a bit of weight and increased their workouts, trying to outsmart me

As autumn set in, I worried about my bushy-tailed pals, and hung peanut-flavored suet cakes in metal cages from the trees. The squirrels stopped shaking their tiny fists at me, and bulked up again. The suet feeders also attracted small woodpeckers, as well as our regular feathered customers. But after the first big snowfall in November, I looked out the breakfast-nook window and noticed that the suet cake’s metal cage was missing. I put on my boots, tramped out to the front yard, and checked all around the apple tree. The squirrels had unhooked the holder before and left it on the ground, but this time, no suet cage lay anywhere in the yard. The falling snow had even hidden the squirrels’ tracks, so I couldn’t follow their trail.

Months later,after the snow melted, my husband finally found the metal suet holder. It lay near our back fence, empty, of course, at the base of the squirrels’ favorite apartment, a huge pine tree. We laughed at their craftiness, but I also squirreled away a lesson from those little bandits. They were thinking ahead. I had foiled them once with the dratted squirrel-proof bird feeders, and they weren’t going to be humiliated (or hungry) again.

Now, in the middle of winter’s dormant season, I,squirrel-like, have started thinking ahead and writing notes in my day-planner for the coming spring. The first note involved promoting one member of my garden staff and demoting another, effective immediately. The promotion went to Kaylee, our golden retriever, who became the official garden supervisor. During the past year, I noticed her managerial ability to delegate, while she lay under the nearest tree and closed her eyes to meditate.

I already had placed the third member of my staff, Benjamin BadKitten,on probation for snagging small finches at the birdbath in the front yard. I counseled him daily. He did not listen. So the demotion, unfortunately, landed on our Old English sheepdog, Winston Ragsdorf (aka Rags.) After his previous efforts, he could no longer be trusted without supervision. In our first autumn here, I left a pile of grape hyacinth bulbs unguarded while I went inside for water. When I came back, the grape hyacinths were gone, and Rags was lying in a patch of dirt, far from the bulb bed. When spring arrived, I realized he had made his own garden that day. Dozens of blue grape hyacinths bloomed in a ragged patch, away from the tulips and daffodils, where I’d planned to use them as accents. My sheepdog, who is as clever as he is cute, had hurriedly buried those little bulbs and lain across them to hide his crime.

When I make my gardens this year, I will trust some of my other instincts more fully, too. I will keep intact the springtime containers I planted of jewel-colored ranunculas, pansies and trailing annuals, and will not transplant them into a garden bed, where they will lose their drama and style. I will remember that June is not too late to plant peas here in northern Idaho. In our previous home near Seattle, I had to plant my pea patch in April, or they would mature too late and turn tasteless. Now I will take advantage of our growing season here, and we will enjoy fresh green peas this summer.

I will also listen to the warning chime in my head and plant tomatoes in raised garden beds, instead of in patio containers. Those raised beds will be secure behind a fence, far from the marauding tendencies of the two tomato-loving dogs on my garden staff.

In an opposite strategy from my squirrely friends, I will not hoard years-old seeds over the winter. When I blithely planted entire packets of ancient seeds last spring, I imagined lush flower beds, frothing with blooms. Instead, from the hundreds of seeds, I got only a few straggling perennials. Not even the hardy annual seeds could survive their years in the seed packet.

As winter continues, I'm taking care of my squirrel pals. I have bought cakes of their favorite suet and hung them again in green wire cages. This time, though, the little cages will be wrapped securely with wire around the tree branches that hold them. Every few days, I toss handfuls of unshelled, unsalted peanuts under the huge oak tree in our side yard, and watch the little guys sit up on their haunches as they meet for lunch.



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