I've been trying to get into gardening. I bought myself a beef steak tomato plant and got so excited when I was able to pluck the unbeef steaky but edible red tomato from the sweet smelling vine and eat it. Wow! I made this! Well, not technically, but you know what I mean.
The vine got healthy, the fruit plenty and I was proud. At one point I looked out on my patio and found the vine alive with fourteen nice ripping tomato's. One of them, just about ready to cut from the vine and enjoy in a sandwhich. The next morning, I went out with sheers in hand gasped. All but two were gone!
I ranted with a strange sense that hovered between anger and pride. I blamed my neighbors who undoubtedly looked into my small yard with envy. Someone had a salad and was too lazy to purchase tomatos for themselves and snuck into my yard late at night. Probably waiting hours after I went to bed, waiting well into morning for my bedroom light to finally snap off so they could take mine. The poor vine looked empty. I hoped silently they weren't good. Grumbled a few choice curses about growing moles and facial hair. But not to give up, I watched it with protective eyes, watching the new fruit flourish on the vine, waiting for the first sign of red to grace the growing green tomato. "I've got five now!" I would tell my husband. I'm not sure he even listened.
Once again, the day came to cut my pride from the tall vine and share it with friend and family. They only got one slice each because the beef steak it was suppose to be, was not. Anyway, I was foiled once again. They were gone.
As I glance around my small garden with tearing eyes, I noticed so were my roses. And the blooms from my jasmine bush. What the hell? Some wicked soul had it in for my garden. I just about gave up on gardening until one morning I was awoken from sleep by an irritating "caw" outside our bedroom window. It was then I realized what was taking my tomatos. Crows! No wonder farmers have scarecrows!
I haven't figured out how to stop them yet, but I did notice this morning, one particular fat black one has an odd looking mole on the side of his beak and if you look closely at it, you'd swear it has hair!
I hate crows. I used to love when these little birds...I wish I could remember what they were called...would chase and peck them away. Makes me want to buy a .22 and do some target practice, but I would probably just shoot my eye out.
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