The rabbits are winning. Chewed up bits of leaves, petals and stems are all that's left of about $200 worth of flowers. It started sometime in June. We made our annual trek to the "Mecca of All that Grows" and carefully selected our flowers - basing our selections on color, size, and how much pride we would feel each time we pulled into our driveway and take in the floral beauty lining our front walk.
Children were summoned, and the dig was on. Watering cans, Miracle Grow, and trowels were all in full swing. A few drops of sweat later, we all stood back and gazed proudly upon our flower beds teeming with abundant color. A little watering each day and we would be golden for the rest of the summer. A job well done.
Four days later, I noticed a few nibbles on the leaves of our hard work. Hmmm... that's odd. A day after that, each and every bloom had been chomped and either digested or spat out next to the measly twig now barely standing where a flower once lived. Oh, and look, some varmint was also lunching on the potted plants flanking our front entrance. Nice.
Well, I finally cleaned out the rabbit-stricken, flower bed after it dried up and looked truly ready for a Home and Garden photo shoot. I felt a bit defeated, but thought a chat with a plant professional would surely clear up this rabbit mishap. So, a few weeks ago, we made another pilgrimage to the flower galleria, and learned of a special "sprinkle" that would definitely ward off those hopping "pests." More flowers were purchased along with a bag (and promise) of "Rabbit-B-Gone." Optimism reigned... sort of.
Again, the digging and planting began, and when the blooms survived two full weeks in one flower bed, we felt confident enough to go to a lesser plant store and shell out a few more dollars on "Hearty" mums for the rest of the flower beds. I sprinkled the magic dust on and all around my replanted flowers and the front step flower -filled pots. Life was good. All was well... until today.
Only remnants and shreds of flower pride remain ... I have now morphed into a taller, more feminine version of Yosemite Sam. I'm not feeling rational or sympathetic. No, I feel like I just might go all rootin' tootin' crazy on the behinds of those flea bitten, no good, flower killin', in-saysheeah-bull, long-eared varmints!!
Summer planting is now over. The rabbits have officially won and surely have had their fill ... if not, Yosemite Samantha is going to become a reality real soon... trust me on this one. Team Mama's not goin' down without a fight.