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