Updates, with Only Minor #@%$!!#!!! Words

I tend to procrastinate—at least I do, once I get around to it. I usually write Over My Garden Gate right ahead of the deadline, telling myself that, in this fast-paced world, that is my way of ensuring you-- Gentle Reader-- the freshest content available. Also, Twitter is highly addictive, but that’s not the point. My point is, writing OMGG ahead of the deadline—which is what I did four weeks ago on The Elk Ate Everything Day--- means I need to play catch-up and bring y’all up to speed.

In Sugar News: Lil’ John-John is beautiful, and funny, and much adored. His parents have decided to keep him, even though they still have 63 days left on the 90-day warranty, and I think that’s the right call. I can just tell---he’s a keeper.

 
In Stinky Spray News: I got a refund check and I feel kind of bad about that---but not bad enough to not cash it. Stupid elk.

In Fence News: The sympathetic Wildlife Conflict Specialist came with a helpful volunteer named Jim—or Ron? I don’t remember his name now, since I called him both—but by any name, he was very helpful and they installed my loaner electric elk fence. It goes up in a jiffy and looks a lot like I’m starting either a professional sock laundry, or that I can make you a sweet deal on a low-mileage vehicle with zero down, or that I’m a piñata short of the Best Birthday Party EVER. But, after I got over the initial “THERENESS” of the fence, I appreciated waking up to a backyard that looked exactly as it had when I went to bed the night before. I took some of the flowerpots I had barricaded on my deck for safe keeping and tucked them among the stumps and stubs of my denuded flowerbeds, and the result could almost fool one into thinking that an Elk Disaster Worthy of FEMA Response hadn’t happened. Almost. 

In Elk News: Post fence installation, things were proceeding smoothly in my backyard, no elk—only signs that they had approached the fence and been, shall we say, “deterred.” Flowers were beginning to make a comeback, I was getting used to the waving flagging of my fence, all was well that ends well----
Well, it didn’t end. At six o’clock this morning the four-legged vandals trashed my fence in a brazen attempt to eat my quaking aspen. I woke to the sounds of elk outrage, “HOW DARE YOU?!! THIS! WILL! NEVER! DO! WTAH?!!” 

By the time I got my eyelids pried open and the door unlocked, the band of miscreants were standing in a huddle, complaining loudly and planning a second assault. The flagging was stripped from the poles, torn in two, and drug halfway into the neighboring field, and the elk—based on body language and my understanding of elk-speak—were planning on calling both their lawyer and the SPCA. Possibly the ACLU, acronyms are hard to translate.

In Property Values News: Real estate values on the Cline Road took another dip today. There was some chasing of elk, whilst improperly attired in pajamas—me, not the elk. There was some shouting of earthy, Anglo-Saxon vulgarities—perhaps the elk were guilty of this as well? There was some throwing of pink Crocs at retreating rumps---that one involved all of us, but it was my footwear aimed—poorly—at their hind-ends. 

In Other News: The smoke from the fires seems to be clearing; Happy Labor Day; and remember to lock your cars, it’s Zucchini Season

Updates, with Only Minor #@%$!!#!!!

I tend to procrastinate—at least I do, once I get around to it. I usually write Over My Garden Gate right ahead of the deadline, telling myself that, in this fast-paced world, that is my way of ensuring you-- Gentle Reader-- the freshest content available. Also, Twitter is highly addictive, but that’s not the point. My point is, writing OMGG ahead of the deadline—which is what I did four weeks ago on The Elk Ate Everything Day--- means I need to play catch-up and bring y’all up to speed.

In Sugar News: Lil’ John-John is beautiful, and funny, and much adored. His parents have decided to keep him, even though they still have 63 days left on the 90-day warranty, and I think that’s the right call. I can just tell, he’s a keeper.

 
In Stinky Spray News: I got a refund check and I feel kind of bad about that. But, not bad enough to not cash it. Stupid elk.

In Fence News: The sympathetic Wildlife Conflict Specialist came with a helpful

volunteer named Jim—or Ron? I don’t remember his name now, since I called him both—but by any name, he was very helpful and they installed my loaner electric elk fence. It goes up in a jiffy and looks a lot like I’m starting either a professional sock laundry, or that I can make you a sweet deal on a low-mileage vehicle with zero down, or that I’m a piñata short of the Best Birthday Party EVER. But, after I got over the initial “THERENESS” of the fence, I appreciated waking up to a backyard that looked exactly as it had when I went to bed the night before. I took some of the flower pots I had barricaded on my deck for safe keeping and tucked them among the stumps and stubs of my denuded flowerbeds, and the result could almost fool one into thinking that an Elk Disaster Worthy of FEMA Response hadn’t happened. Almost. 

In Elk News: Post fence installation, things were proceeding smoothly in my backyard, no elk—only signs that they had approached the fence and been, shall we say, “deterred.” Flowers were beginning to make a comeback, I was getting used to the waving flagging of my fence, all was well that ends well----
Well, it didn’t end. At six o’clock this morning the four-legged vandals trashed my fence in an brazen attempt to eat my quaking aspen. I woke to the sounds of elk outrage, “HOW DARE YOU?!! THIS! WILL! NEVER! DO! WTAH?!!” 

By the time I got my eyelids pried open and the door unlocked, the band of miscreants were standing in a huddle, complaining loudly and planning a second assault. The flagging was stripped from the poles, torn in two, and drug halfway into the neighboring field, and the elk—based on body language and my understanding of elk-speak—were planning on calling both their lawyer and the SPCA. Possibly the ACLU, acronyms are hard to translate.

In Property Values News: Real estate values on the Cline Road took another dip today. There was some chasing of elk, whilst improperly attired in pajamas—me, not the elk. There was some shouting of earthy, Anglo-Saxon vulgarities—perhaps the elk were guilty of this as well? There was some throwing of pink Crocs at retreating rumps---that one involved all of us, but it was my footwear aimed—poorly—at their hind-ends. 

In Other News: The smoke from the fires seems to be clearing; Happy Labor Day; and remember to lock your cars, it’s Zucchini Season!

Gotcha! Scared the scat right out of ya!

Product Review: Stinky Spray

I’ve been using a stinky spray called “Liquid Fence” in an effort to spoil the appetites of marauding elk. I’m here to tell you it doesn’t work on elk.

The label says that unlike “other repellents that require the animals to browse to be effective, Liquid Fence works on scent,” so animals don’t even have to take a taste to be repelled. “Because the animals’ natural aversion to this scent will never diminish, Liquid Fence DOES NOT have to be rotated with other repellent brands.”

This turns out not to be true. Elk eat it anyway. I have the photos to prove it.

The label says “100% money back guarantee” and so I spoke to the fine people at Liquid Fence to let them know their product could use some revamping. The Fine People gently informed me that the label also says, “Deer and Rabbit” ---had I seen any deer and rabbits in my yard?

No, I admitted, no sign of deer, or rabbits.

The Fine People suggested that their product did, indeed, work. What the label DOESN’T mention is elk deterrence.

I casually mentioned that the label didn’t mention Unicorns, but I hadn’t seen any of those in my yard either, perhaps they’d like to update their label?

The Fine People at Liquid Fence seemed to be counting silently to ten, then asked for my address.

To be fair, it’s not their fault that I’d rather have my flowers and a product that works on elk, rather than to have my money refunded. To be fair, their product apparently works exactly as designed—I’ve seen neither deer-hide, nor hare-hair.

To be fair, I know some people who swear by Liquid Fence, perhaps it works for them. Yay, them.  Perhaps my location has inadvertently bred a subspecies of elk with either defective nasal passages or a sophisticated palate, or both. Yay me.

Product Review. Sort Of

Welcome to Over My Garden Gate, where the elk are prolific and the flowers are gone. Do I sound bitter? Because I feel bitter. But apparently my flowers are delicious, even if they do smell like garlic and rotten eggs.

There are many products on the market that are sold to help gardeners and landscapers deal with pests: stinky sprays and stinky pellet sprinkles, motion detector sprinklers, alarms and all manner of clever gadgets. I have yet to find an effective product or method, even if I deploy all the tips and tools at once.

I spray the plants with stinky spray, use sprinklers to keep the Horrible Beasties at bay, allow the neighborhood dogs to leave their calling cards/scent all over my yard, hang human hair in strategic locations to function as a pseudo scarecrow of sorts---you name it, I’ve tried it. Including kill permits and chasing elk from my flowerbeds with a small sledge-hammer, while wearing only a bath towel. For clarity—I was in the bath towel, the elk were not. At least that’s how the “chase” started. That story ends with a downturn in the local real estate market and no discernable drop in the number of elk visits to my petunias.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I’ve employed duct tape as a fence building material, I’ve draped articles of clothing over the branches of newly planted trees to frighten elk away---articles of clothing that I had, up until that point, been wearing—because I was convinced that while I turned my back to go find my stinky spray the elk would rush in, eat my tree and I’d come back to a stump.

Fence fixings...

Fun Fact: the night of the elk assault on my flowers, I had had a meeting THAT VERY DAY with Officer Conklin of the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife. She had offered relief in the form of a loaner electric fence, heavily festooned with long, flappy, elk-frightening ribbons. This fence looks not unlike an old-fashioned clothesline with a bunch of long, red socks hanging from it---if you imagine the clothesline coming with a little kilowatt kicker. ZAAAAP--- I know I imagined it. Often.

Apparently, elk are the Evil Genius Spawn of Satan...