After an early morning bout of running around the habaneros and
zucchini in my bathrobe chasing two wabbits out of my gawden, I went
first thing to Ace Hardware and bought 3 50-foot rolls of 2-foot high
chickenwire to wrap around the perimeter of the fence they can squeeze
through (despite my bubblewrap borders).
Yes, Mary Ellen, they’re cute (there’s a mama and babies) but enough’s enough. I grow things for people to eat. I’m not a ‘gentleman farmer’ but a mere step below a real overalls and permanently dirty fingernails farmer. Also, I let this family live under my shop through the winter and spring but I didn’t expect to have to feed them as well.
Also, the poison ivy that keeps me watchful as I weed (it’s everywhere!) may have met its match with Roundup.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I saw the word poison ivy and it brought back horrible memories.
I now live in my city cottage one year. No poison ivy. But before that at the country homes the poison ivy would not leave me alone.
I would always have to get a shot and take pills. Sometimes twice a year. They made me feel like I was on a high.
One of the worst cases I got was one year off the the wood I burned in my fireplace!!!!
Good luck to you.
Yes! The smoke is the worst; that’s the way I got it once in my eyes because my dad and I were burning the field.
Strangely, this is one thing you don’t outgrow or develop a sensitivity to it as you age like other allergies.