But this weekend, the shackles of life were removed and I. Got. To. Garden.

Actually, I got to till, weed, dig and build.  Not too much actual planting but by golly, I will be planting tomorrow.

First on the list of things to do.  Build a D.E.E.R. Fence.

Apparently, my little suburb of Cleveland (which does have a MetroPark but said MetroPark is miles from my home) has become the latest and trendiest place for all the local deer to move into.  The small park near my home has become where all the mommy deer take their little ones to catch a passing glimpse of the playing “baby” humans. Honest, they think it is a human wildlife preserve.  “Don’t worry dear,” they whisper to their wide eyed staring fawns as humans walk past, “they only look dangerous. These humans won’t hurt you.” And we don’t. We human walk by the herd that lays next to the park’s walking path EVERYDAY and either gawk like fools or curse that firing a gun is illegal inside city limits.

With all this deer tourist traffic, my garden has apparently found its way onto the deer version of the Berlitz travel guide and has become THE place to eat.  Over the past few months, my garden has been peppered with deer hoof prints – only “problem” is that the main course they are looking for in my garden has been taking a rain delay. So take that damn deer!

But now I do want to plant and I needed to let any and all deer know that my garden was now an exclusive eating establishment – mainly humans only. I have no problem being a speciest in this situation  And in order to accomplish that, I employed my favorite gardening tool – the spousal unit.

The spousal unit (and various offspring) spent the better part of two days erecting a 7 foot high chicken wire fence around my vegetable garden.

Why 7 foot? Because deer can jump 6 foot with no runup.  Yep, you read that right, from standing, they can make Michael Jordan look pathetic (and I would have said LeBron James but we already think he is pathetic, so what is the point).

Why did the spousal unit do this for me? Because he knows that if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy (or getting marital benefits).

So what does D.E.E.R stand for?

• Deer
• Elimination
• Eradication or at least
• Resistance

My husband is actually hoping that one jumps in but can’t jump out. Firing guns in city limits is illegal, but my husband owns a crossbow and that perfectly legal.

Not a creature was stirring, all the beds were snow covered;

The Christmas lights were hung on the rooftop with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas (sans deer) soon would be there;

The spring bulbs were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of spring-time danced in their heads;

And I with my 6 layers of clothing and a space heater humming,

Had just settled down to dream of next summer sunning,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Carefully moved all the houseplants and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Looked dreadful covering up all my gardens below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny damn deer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his feasters they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

Over the fence! over the top of the wall!

Now feast away! feast away! feast away all!”

As piranhas that live in the Amazon river,

When they meet with a meal, leave not but a sliver,

So into the garden the feasters they flew,

Pulling a sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, in my garden that was left

Were eight hungry damn deer committing botanical theft.

So I drew in my hand, and reached for a gun,

And cursed because city ordinance said deer shooting couldn’t be done.

Santa was wearing muck boots, jeans and a plaid shirt,

And his clothes were all tarnished with compost and dirt;

A bundle of seed catalogs he had next to him on the seat,

And he looked like a someone who was in for a treat.

His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

He was happy looking at roses and trees that grew cherries!

All the while his damn deer were making me wish I had a bow,

As they dug and stripped all that was left in the snow;

He paid them no heed, he just picked at his teeth,

And then turned a page as the deer ate my wreath;

The deer continued to eat and fill up their bellies,

Santa ignored them and dreamed of making home grown jellies.

The deer wandered in my greenhouse and ate the plants right off the shelf,

And I shouted when I saw this, like a right angry old elf;

Jolted out of his seed revere, with a twist of his head,

Santa came to realize what I had watched with dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

Planting new trees and flower seeds so he wouldn’t look like a jerk,

He replaced my devoured wreath with one made of spruce pine.

And giving a nod, satisfied with the design;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove into the sky black,

“Happy Christmas to all, and Spring soon will be back!”

I recognize this thief. She (most likely) has done this before. Damn deer.

I have decided that this fall I will be trying deer hunting. I mean this seriously. I talked it over with my husband a few months ago (my deer hatred runs deep and long) and I feel I would feel better about them eating some of my garden if I got to eat some of them. My grandfather has even offered to let me have his rifle.

And before any deer bleeding hearts go berate me for going vendetta hunting, the Ohio deer population is more than healthy. In fact, there are so many that they are putting Ohio parks and forests at risk due to the fact that there are too many and they are over grazing the understory of the forests.

Beyond that, I only want to hear protests from people who never, ever eat meat. Have you ever seen the way animals are slaughtered? Jeez, at least when your hunting the animal has a chance and had a relatively good life before that.

Nope, it won’t stop them from eating my garden, but it sure will taste good just knowing there is one less.

Point is, the damn things are everywhere and they are destructive. And yet, when many people see them, they stop and gush at the stupid things. This is an reaction that I just don’t understand.

Today I went with my neighbor to buy some daylilies from a guy who lives down in the MetroParks. We pass this poor person’s house which had a whole herd of deer wandering around the front yard.

My reaction was “Holy shit. Poor people. No wonder they have a blah yard. The stupid deer ate everything.”

My neighbor on the other hand gasps in amazement as though we had just stumbled upon a bevy of giant pandas instead of deer. And she went on and on about the deer. How amazing it was to see them, how wonderful they are. And she is not the only one who does it. All the time around here I see people slow down to look at some deer. Even I, myself, do it occasionally. “Look kids, there’s a deer! Isn’t it pretty? Is Daddy’s hunting bow in the back? Pass it up to Mommy.”

Frankly, I see more deer in a week than I do metro buses, as do most people around here. Why do we still find these animals to be somehow mystical? They aren’t magical, they are deer. Plain old, nearly-hit-one-with-my-car-every-other-month deer.

I think that they have developed some sort of super evolutionary power that causes them to scramble human brains, thus allowing them to compete reproductively with rabbits.

They are common, destructive and really tasty and yet people will scream over efforts to allow hunters to cull herds (thus keeping the creatures from overpopulation). I am telling you, it is a mind control power that gets people to scream about the inhumanity of culling a deer herd and then go home to a steak dinner.

Giant rats. If there is ever a nuclear holocaust, I am pretty sure cockroaches and deer will survive.

AAACCCKKK!

AAACCCKKK!

AAACCCKKK!

Deer Damage and Frost! Ugh.

I found the deer damage yesterday afternoon. I suppose this is what I get for going all philosophical about the tulips. Good old Mother Nature sends me a reminder that you should never take your garden too seriously.

I went and got a bar of Irish Spring soap, original scent. I used it after the last time I found deer damage in the yard. The super strong smell is suppose to help keep the deer away. It seemed to work in the area where they were munching before. So maybe it will work here.

The mailman is going to think I am nuts with all these bars of soap laying around my yard. The neighbors will understand though.

The poor woman across the street literally has her whole yard under netting. Someone in the deer community told everyone that her yard was the local all-you-can-eat buffet. The deer will eat everything in sight if she doesn’t net her plants.

And I guess I am going to have to apologize to everyone. I jinxed us. I talked about how warm it was last November and Mother Nature sent an unusual (though not that unusual) late April frost.

Officially, Cleveland’s last frost date is May 18th, but I always pretend that I don’t remember that and these late April frosts surprise me.

Well, hopefully Jack Frost has played his last trick for the year and has high tailed it to somewhere in Australia! I wish I could hope the same for the deer, but I know better than that.