Saturday, September 13, 2008
Here's the view out the kitchen window of the Harry Potter garden & morning glory vines (we call Devils' Snare) overtaking the playground.
Looks innocent enough, but below is a detail.
Damn squirrel. Picking tomatoes is a delicately-timed balance of leaving the tomato on the vine long enough to ripen, but picked before the squirrel(s) have their chance to pick it first. (I'm sure they're thinking it's a delicately-timed balance of letting it ripe before the humans living in the big box get a chance to pick it first.)
Part of his strategy, obviously, is to leave the half-eaten tomato perfectly placed, in direct eye line from my kitchen sink–to prod, infuriate, embarrass, humiliate, discourage, and ultimately break my spirit–thus having me withdraw from this petty game of gardener vs. nature.
All I see is the wasted opportunity for a BLT. Although for each tomato stolen, the thought of a Squirrel Lettuce and Tomato (SLT) sandwich is sounding better.
This round, he won.