Weekly Update: 6.7.26
Of cottontails and honey bees
"Now my dears, you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor."
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Peter Rabbit
I thought of Mr. McGregor this week as I stood surveying what was our pepper plants. What were once neat columns of serranoes and jalapenos were now two rows of mostly stems. The bell peppers and tomatoes had also both been pilfered. I pride myself on being a woman that “has it together” emotionally. I’m not one to give into tears unless they are truly warranted. As I stood there, though, looking over the absolute carnage, tears pricked. I’m used to the ups and downs of homesteading, but sometimes — things just hit harder than normal.
Now that summer is here, I’ve been starting most of my days in the garden. Usually, it’s one of the best parts of my day. This year, it’s been — difficult. It started with all of our plants simply refusing to grow. I don’t know if it was the potting soil (which sprouted mushrooms immediately) or the heirloom seeds, but our plants are small compared to last year. Then, we made the mistake of planning to pick up our cucurbit seeds at Walmart when we were ready for them — only to discover Walmart had already literally thrown them away for the year. We ordered some, but we are starting weeks behind. Next, all the rain we’ve had has set us back on soil prepping while causing the weeds to grow at what seems an almost unnatural pace. Pests seem worse than normal. We lost all of our okra awhile back, which I’ve since reseeded. Cutworms got to a bunch of our peppers earlier this week, inspiring me to use diatomaceous earth for the first time. Something has been eating our green beans, and I finally figured out its rabbits. And then came Thursday with the great pepper apocalypse.
As I stood, looking around me — at the weeds, the broken trellises and squash boxes needing repair, and the rows of stems — I had a moment of wanting to throw up my hands and give up. There is so much needing done on the bunkhouse still, and the garden has been taking up so much time. I wanted to scream at the thick grass and brush just outside the fence, “Fine. Take it. You win.” I wanted to sit on the ground, put my head in my knees, and surrender. Instead, I took a deep breath, pulled out my phone, and started looking for solutions to the rabbit problem.
Last year, we had zero issues with rabbits eating our plants. Now I realize why our old cats, Gandalf and Arwen, used to spend so much time in the garden. Gandalf started spending most of his time away last fall, and we rehomed Arwen, as we didn’t want her wintering alone without a heated home (we used to have a little cat house on our covered tent porch near our wood stove). Since then, we have suddenly run into issues with mice getting into — everything. And now, rabbits are terrorizing our garden.
I did a little research, and I decided the quickest deterrent would be to add a 2—foot layer of chicken wire along the bottom of our garden fence. The rest of the family jumped in to help. My dad called around, then decided to run to Menards in Springfield. The kids started pulling the rock border away from the bottom of our existing fence. Bonnie-Jean and our brother Levi quickly got to work digging a 2-inch trench beneath the fence we have, so that the chicken wire could be slightly buried. Grace attacked the giant wild rose bush that took up a good 10-foot section of the fence. I worked inside the garden, moving squash boxes and piles of detritus that could be harboring rodents. The weather was calling for afternoon storms, so we worked quickly hoping to finish before the rain.
The weather was supposed to hold off until later in the afternoon, but since we live in Missouri, it started thundering a couple hours earlier than we initially expected — just as our dad pulled in with the fencing. We considered putting the project off another day, but we didn’t want to lose the rest of our plants. So, with one eye on the ominous black clouds drifting in from the south, I grabbed our pneumatic stapler. Levi grabbed the fencing, and we got to work. Bonnie-Jean and Grace worked behind us, burying the wire and adding a rock border to discourage animals from digging. Our sister-in-law Erin came and helped them as well, along with one of our nieces.
We got two 80-foot sides of the fence done when the rain started to fall. It wasn’t too heavy, so we grabbed an old trash can to put over the air compressor and kept working. While the rain fell steadily, thank God, we didn’t have a true downpour. I’ve never seen a fence go up so fast. We finished attaching the wire just as the rain started to worsen. We ran around getting all our tools put under cover, laughing with exhilaration that we had finished something that felt impossible.
Thankfully, our fix worked. The rabbits haven’t been back to wreak any additional havoc. More importantly though, the experience of all jumping in and pushing ourselves to our limits as a group was rewarding. Life is busy and often we are all going in different directions. It was a gift to come together and show ourselves how much we can accomplish when we act like a team.
The garden was our biggest focus this week, but we did spend some time creating two flower beds for all the zinnias and cosmos we planted this spring. Grace, Bonnie-Jean, and I constructed two simple wooden frames. We used scrap wood left over from our interior siding, and we coated everything with Eco Wood Treatment. Bonnie-Jean dug 13 wheelbarrow-loads of dirt in the woods to fill the beds with. She and one of our nieces planted the flowers Friday evening before the rain hit on Saturday.
That night after dusk, our brother Jeremiah and I suited up to do some beekeeping. We’d seen we had a new swarm in our trap a couple weeks ago, but we’d been too busy to move them. Our niece Chloe came along to hold a red flashlight so we could see what we were doing. When we opened the trap, we were impressed by the six large Layen’s frames already full of comb with visible brood, bread, and honey. It was the most advanced looking swarm we’ve ever caught — probably because the trap had been stocked with comb from previous hives.
After a crazy week working outside in the heat, we all enjoyed our rainy Saturday. It’s our week to provide treats after Mass today, so after a morning spent deep cleaning, we baked more than 100 muffins. We did four batches of the recipe our mom developed for the coffee shop our folks owned when we were kids — blackberry crumble, cappuccino, cranberry orange, and banana nut coconut. It was a nice moment to slow down, connect, and prepare ourselves for church.
Thursday night, after our long day throwing up our rabbit fence, I stepped out after dark to look for possible Northern Lights in the post-storm cloudless skies. While the Aurora Borealis didn’t make an appearance, the fireflies were so spectacular, they left nothing wanting. I stood on our deck looking out at a sparkling world — from the stars twinkling across the sky to the lightning bugs twinkling from the treetops to the earth. It was nature’s fireworks at their best, and I stood soaking in the beauty.
The next day, when I visited the garden, I noticed tiny new leave on many of the chomped pepper plants. And just like that, hope unfurled — tiny and stalwart.
