As I'm sitting outside, working on getting a case of Malaria and smiling at how badly I'm suddenly craving hard cheese, I realize that something has been eating my red flowers again. I know this doesn't seem like a big deal to you, but you need to understand that my container gardens are my retreat at home. They are my special place. For maybe an hour in the evening, if I'm lucky, I can just chill out and drink some wine and water them and pull almost microscopic weeds. Some nights I just stare at them. Maybe I'll think about stuff. Maybe solve some problems. Maybe give myself a pep talk. Or maybe just get Malaria from all the mosquitoes and discover a cheese craving, but hey, it's something.
Anyway, something has now eaten the all the red flowers out of the claw-foot bathtub garden in the driveway.
I know some of that last sentence took a minute to digest, but let's go on. The point is that I thought it was an armadillo, but I don't think an armadillo could climb into the bathtub. And it's only the RED flowers. The others haven't been touched! No, not deer - deer are color blind, right? Squirrels? Groundhogs?
And then it's good-bye happy place. You see, my mind is no longer adrift with my wine, studying the slowly swelling bug bites. I can no longer absent-mindedly scratch the new knuckle I just grew on my left hand as I ponder my neighbor's landscaping. I accidentally gave my brain an agenda, and now I have to go inside to Google the color-blindness of every woodland creature I can think of, and try to determine it's "climbing into bathtub" capabilities. What's worse is the sneaking suspicion that if I follow most of the suggestions to deter this mystery mammal, my happy place will end up covered in human hair, and smelling like a mixture of urine and cayenne pepper.
I guess at least the cayenne pepper might be good with cheese.
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