The Tale of Buddy the Bunny

I have been reading several posts and many comments lately about dealing with the nemesis of gardeners everywhere, that cuddly, furry little creature who miraculously lays brightly colored eggs all over our yards just once each spring. Yes, I do mean the rabbit, or the bunny, as my grandchildren prefer to call him. I've decided it's time for someone to speak up for this defenseless creature and to redeem myself after my cruel hoax on Tuesday.

Now before all you gardeners stop reading this in disgust, thinking this is the ranting of some idealistic nature-lover who never planted a carrot or of some fanatical animal activist who pickets gardeners using rabbit repellent, I do feel your pain. I, too, have had vegetables mysteriously disappear overnight from the garden. But, I must admit, my skirmishes with the hares have been minor, so there is still a soft spot in my heart for them, especially when I remember Buddy the Bunny.

During this past long winter, one of my projects was to organize my photographs. Nearly forty years' worth of photos were crammed into boxes and worn-out scrapbooks in the hall closet. Each night for over two weeks I tackled a couple containers, sorting each picture into a pile according to oldest son, oldest daughter, grandchild one, and so on. Finally, I had quite a few photo boxes each carefully labelled (scrapbooks may or may not come later). The photos brought back fond memories of my children's childhood, and I found some long-forgotten pictures, including this one of our only pet rabbit, Buddy.

How can you not love something so adorable?

Several years ago, when daughter #1 was a junior in college, she came home with a small box one day, just beaming. To my surprise, she pulled out this white ball of fluff and said, "Isn't he the cutest thing you've ever seen?" I had to agree, but I don't know what possessed her to get him; perhaps she needed a friend at school. At the time she was living in a single in her sorority house, and somehow she managed to keep him in her room without anyone knowing. (I'm sure there was a no-pet policy, but at least rabbits don't bark or howl so no suspicions were raised.)

However, as we all know, everything living grows, and in no time, Buddy wasn't this tiny little creature satisfied to stay in his small cage. Eventually, daughter #1 had to face the fact that Buddy simply couldn't live with her anymore, and she brought him home to stay with us. (I've lost count of the foundlings we have adopted thanks to my daughter's soft heart.)

Buddy soon became one of the family. Feeling sorry for him in his small cage, I let him out to play several times a day. He would hop all over the house, to the delight of my grandchildren. His favorite place to settle down was in the recliner. When my husband sat down to relax and watch a baseball game, Buddy would make a vertical hop of two feet right onto the footrest of the recliner and sit there perfectly content for an hour or more. All he needed was a Cubs cap with cutouts for his ears.

Although such actions endeared him to us, especially my husband, I quickly found that indoor rabbits can create almost as much human consternation as their outdoor counterparts. When Buddy wasn't cheering on the Cubs or napping contentedly on the couch, he kept active. I discovered that rabbits follow a fairly predictable routine: nibble a little, hop, hop, poop, poop, hop, hop, poop, hop, poop... After awhile of this, I grew frustrated and put him back in his cage, too small or not, while I cleaned up after him. (Fortunately, rabbit droppings are less messy and disgusting than cleaning up after a cat or dog who isn't yet housebroken.)

But that isn't their only pastime--remember the nibbling? Rabbits aren't choosy about what they nibble on--an extension cord, my vacuum cleaner cord, or woodwork were all tasty edibles, as far as Buddy was concerned. The last straw came the day I decided to check the internet for articles on housebreaking rabbits (it has been done!) and what to do in case of an accidental electrocution. Unfortunately, I couldn't click onto the Web, because Buddy had chewed right through the cord to my computer's mouse!

Fuming all the way to the local Staples for a new mouse, I had Mr. McGregorian thoughts. I'd show that rabbit! By the time I got home armed with a new mouse and a plastic contraption designed to cover all my computer cables, I had calmed down. I resolved, too, to invest in a larger cage for Buddy (where was my daughter??) and do some serious research on litterboxes for rabbits. Unfortunately, I never had the chance to do either.

I am sorry to say that the tale of Buddy the Bunny has a very sad ending. He did not escape from Mr. McGregor's garden and eventually get put to bed with chamomile tea. Instead, my daughter, in a misguided attempt to create harmony among all her pets, introduced him to Calico the cat, who was then living outdoors. Calico immediately lashed out at Buddy with her claws, and while it was only a superficial wound, Buddy apparently was traumatized. He died the next day. I later learned from an acquaintance who once raised rabbits that domestic rabbits are easily frightened and can die from an emotional trauma.

Now, my fellow gardeners, you understand why I might sympathize with your rabbit wars, but still have a soft spot in my heart for these furry friends. Last summer we had a family of rabbits on our farm, and they did devour my cabbage and cauliflower plants, but my cabbage and cauliflower usually get infested with worms anyway (shudder), so I wasn't too disturbed.

Coconut, the ever-vigilant watchdog

When I spotted a rabbit, I would point him out to Coconut, who was more than willing to chase it away. And when Coconut returned indoors, Smoky and the other outdoor cats managed to keep them from approaching too close to the house.

Smoky, the formidable watch cat

Of course, if the rabbits start nibbling on my hostas this year, well, that's another story...

Perhaps I should stock up on some chicken wire just in case.

The Final Rabbit Solution

Having read several blogs lately about dealing with the bane of gardeners everywhere--the rabbit--I thought you might be interested in my foolproof way of keeping these little pests out of your garden permanently.

After rabbits devoured a whole row of vegetables in my garden last year, I was determined to find some way of deterring them from further destruction. After trying countless methods that simply didn't work, I hit upon a brainstorm, albeit a little drastic. I borrowed a taser gun from a police officer friend of mine. One late spring evening last year I stationed myself in the garden, hiding behind the tomato plants, clad in camouflage borrowed from my son, the hunter. My patience eventually paid off.

The enemy cautiously hopped in the garden, never suspecting I was lying in wait. As they began to nibble on carrot tops, I sprang up from my hiding place and zapped two of them before they even had a chance to swallow.

Quickly, before they could recover, I began the second step of the process of rabbit eradication. I retrieved the pail of plaster of paris I had mixed up shortly before. I poured the mixture on both of them, still unconscious from the taser, and smoothed a thick coating over their entire bodies. I propped them up carefully to allow the mixture to harden quickly.

Voila!

You can see the end result is quite an aesthetically pleasing addition to my garden, plus it has the added benefit of deterring any further rabbit invasions. Apparently, the plaster statues serve as a warning to all rabbits what might happen to those who dare to enter my garden, much like the heads of criminals on the city walls of London did many centuries ago.

If you are interested in the exact process for creating these statues, you may email me at prairierose@aprilfools.com.

(Perhaps I've gone too far...I've read too much Jonathan Swift. Before anyone reports me to the ASPCA, these statues are actually in the Master Gardeners Idea Garden on the U of I campus. In a couple days I plan to post a story about a dear departed pet, Buddy the Bunny. I hope you will read it.)

A Cure for Spring Fever

"April is the cruellest month..."

---T.S. Eliot

I'm not quite sure what the great Mr. Eliot meant by this; personally, I never liked February. For gardeners, though, especially this year, I think March probably has to be the cruellest month of all--teasing us with a little sunshine, a day of warmth here and there, and then laughing at us with a downpour, a hailstorm, or even one more snowstorm.



My friend Beckie of Dragonfly Corner and I have found the cure for this year's spring blues, though. We attended an open house and series of workshops at a local garden center today. What fun! We were greeted as we walked in by trays and trays of bright pansies in all colors .

Our first session was on adding whimsy in the garden, taught by a professor of horticulture at the University of Illinois. She entertained us as well as informed us, demonstrating her ideas with various plants selected from the center. I especially liked the idea that you don't have to plant masses of the same plant, as long as you repeat a color or mound shape. That reassured me because I tend to plant a variety of plants, because I'm always finding something new I want to try.

The second session was on "Shady Characters," a topic I'm particularly interested in since I added more space to my tiny shade garden last fall. Besides the usual hostas, she showed a variety of perennials and even a few annuals for shady spots. My favorites of the annuals had to be the primulas, which I assume have to be related to the primrose. Just look at this candy-pink flower! My camera doesn't do it justice; Beckie and I both commented that it looked as if someone had painted it.

And if you don't like pink, they come in nearly every color. Wouldn't these really catch your eye in the shade? I am going to buy a whole flat of these as soon as the weather gets a little warmer.

We attended two more sessions: one on caring for roses and one on annuals. I'll let Beckie discuss the roses--I'm too intimidated by them. The annual talk was great, though. The speaker, a Master Gardener, brought in photos from last year of her garden as well as the Idea Garden on the U of I campus, since the annuals in the greenhouse are still very small. I wish I had taken pictures of her photos! I came away with lots of new ideas I can't wait to try this year. Two annuals she specifically recommended were Euphorbia "Diamond Blast," which she called a "froth of white" in containers, and "Raspberry Blast" supertunia. The small specimen of euphorbia she had gave no indication of how beautiful it can be as we later saw in the photos. This is one annual I am definitely going to include in containers this year. The raspberry supertunia is one I actually planted last year, and I agree it's a beauty.

By 2:00 Beckie and I were suffering from low blood sugar or just plain starvation, so we didn't stay for the next session on hypertufa pots. Too bad; I'm going to lie awake all night wondering what hypertufa is. After a much-needed lunch, we capped the day by stopping at the Master Gardeners Idea Garden on campus. Nothing is blooming yet (now I don't feel so bad about my lack of blooms), but we intend to make it a frequent stop during the summer to see how their garden grows. Look for it on later posts.

All in all, a great way to lift our moods after this long, hard winter.

(Check out Dragonflycorner, too, for another view of our day.)

One Mission Accomplished

It's a gray day outside and the forecast is for rain the next few days. I am so glad I took advantage of the beautiful weather we had yesterday.

Wednesdays are "me" days: I take a Tai Chi class with a friend at our local community college, then we "do" lunch, sometimes with another old friend. I always look forward to Wednesdays, coming home tired, but in a good mood. Yesterday was no exception, except the weather was so beautiful--bright sunshine, mid-50's, but feeling much warmer--that I felt guilty about not getting outside to accomplish some yard work. By the time I got home at 4 I was tired, but checking the forecast, I saw the rain coming. So I forced my protesting body out of the chair and gathered up the necessary tools for one simple task--expanding my roadside flowerbed.

Two years ago I created a small flowerbed in front of these burning bushes. I planted coneflowers and Stella d'Oro daylilies, two of my favorite perennials, along with some Victoria blue salvia. They have done very well, and I've gotten a lot of compliments on my plantings. But every day as I returned home, I realized the bed was much too small. So my goal this year is to expand the flowerbed in front of all the bushes.

Now this bed doesn't look very big in this picture, but I remember the work it took just to dig up this small area. We had rented a large tiller for my vegetable garden, but it was so big, only my son could use it. So I decided that I would make things easier on myself this time.

I had found an article that suggested laying down a layer of newspapers to kill the grass first. This sounded like a good idea, since spading up the grass is the hardest part.


I laid down the newspapers and fastened them with landscaping U-clips I purchased at the local Menard's. Now I'm sure you experienced gardeners have probably used these clips, but they were new to me. I wish I'd had them before when I tried to lay down landscape fabric on a windy day!

The area still looks too small to me, but it's a start. Now all I have to do is wait about a month and hope the grass has died enough to make spading a much easier task this year.

I'm not sure what all I will plant here yet, but I was inspired by an earlier post of Lisa's at Greenbow to start with some zinnias. The rest is still a blank canvas--time to check out those gardening catalogs again!

New Gardening Year's Resolutions

I hope that everyone had a happy Easter. Our family gathered at my mother's for Easter dinner, and while it was pretty chilly outside, the grandkids did manage to have one Easter egg hunt before the cold got the better of them. While there, I marvelled at my mother's plants she has managed to keep blooming over the winter. Even a wave petunia was still in full bloom, looking as if it were July instead of March. But her geraniums are the star performers. She keeps her flowers in a sunny, south-facing window on an enclosed porch. I don't know anyone who manages to keep geraniums thriving all winter long as well as she does.

Looking at her beautiful geraniums, I thought wistfully of the planter I brought in for the winter, hoping to save the geraniums and asparagus ferns for the next season. While the ferns have survived, the geraniums are turning brown and look very spindly. Hmmm, could it be that I forgot to water them??

Every year as the gardening season approaches, I have grand plans and all sorts of good intentions that seem to fizzle out as time goes by, especially in the heat and humidity of July and August. So I have decided that now, while I am waiting for the ground to dry out and the temperatures to warm up somewhat before attempting anything in the garden, this would be a good time to remind myself of what I've learned from past mistakes.

Here are my resolutions for this year in the garden:

1. I will not waste money on cabbage and cauliflower plants, unless I get a compassionate urge to feed the rabbits. (Actually, they were given to me last year so I didn't really spend any money on them. Over a week's time, leaf by leaf, they all disappeared.)

2. Before mowing season begins, I will edge the roadside flowerbed or at least point out to my husband the difference between an emerging lily and a clump of grass. (I think you get the picture.)

3. I will resist the urge to plant more than two hills of zucchini. (I still have bags of chopped and shredded zucchini from two summers ago in my freezer.)

4. I will spend more money on potting soil and not buy the bags that have been sitting next to the Walmart parking lot for the last month. (Last year I bought a few more bags in early June, and the soil felt like black bricks. No wonder the last few containers that were filled with this soil never did very well.)

5. I will not submerge the Jiffy peat pellets in a pan of water before planting, and have all the soil spill out into the water. (Yes, I did do that this year. Beckie gave me good instructions; I just visualized them differently. Fortunately, I retrieved them before they lost all their soil.)

6. I will not take the first warm day in early April to transplant half of my perennials. (Last year in early, early April we had two balmy days, so I decided to dig up some of my overcrowded plants and move them. The next day the temperature dropped 35 degrees and nearly killed those that had just been transplanted. One knock-out rose is still slowly recovering.)

7. I will put down mulch and weed the vegetable garden regularly before the green beans are hidden in a growth of grass and weeds. (I am too embarrassed to add any more...)

8. I will water the flowers, especially the potted ones, regularly and not tell myself each day, "Well, it looks like rain any time..."

9. I will write down notes in a gardening journal so that I remember what containers worked well and which ones didn't. Also, so that when a strange-looking plant begins to emerge in my flowerbed, I will remember what I planted there last year. (I did actually start this last year--just a simple three-ring binder with pockets for magazine or internet articles I've found. The notes, though, I didn't write down till December--I sure hope my memory was good at the time.)
And finally,

10. I will plant any annuals I purchase immediately, or within the next two days. The same goes for anything ordered from a mail order catalog. (I have discovered that after planting a dead plant in good,rich soil, it is still dead.)

I am sure that there are other things I need to do differently this year as well, but if I can stick to keeping these ten, my plants will thank me.

The grass is always greener...

Yesterday I drove my youngest daughter to Indianapolis to catch a flight to Arizona to visit her older sister. I was ready to jump on the plane with her at the last moment! Although the temperatures are slowly getting warmer here at home, the forecast is for rain all week, making me long for a warmer, drier climate. I did get to visit my daughter in Phoenix at the end of January and had a wonderful time. For a girl from the flat prairies of central Illinois, the mountains of Arizona were awe-inspiring. Sedona, about two hours north of Phoenix, has picture-perfect scenery and is a popular destination for tourists. While I was in Phoenix, my daughter had to go to work, so I had to entertain myself during the day. The last full day I was there, I had a few options from my handy AAA travel guide and decided to visit the Desert Botanical Gardens. I am so glad I did! The gardens are located in Papago Park on the Southeast corner of Phoenix. If you are ever in Phoenix, it is well worth visiting.

When I arrived, I planned just to walk around the gardens, but fortunately, a guided walking tour was about to begin, so I joined the group. I am so glad I did! Our guide was very knowledgeable and told so many interesting anecdotes about various plants; I never would have gotten this much information by myself. I was told the tour would take about 30 minutes, but it actually took over an hour, which gave us twice as much time to enjoy the experience.

I don't remember all the exotic varieties we saw, but my favorite has to be the saguaro cactus, just because it is the symbol of the Southwest and because I didn't realize how large they could be. They live for 150 years or more; the one below had to be 20 to 30 feet tall. The Saguaro, though not on the endangered species list, is protected by Arizona state law. If a land developer has to remove one while clearing the land, he is required to transplant it. Our guide also told us that in his neighborhood he has seen the police arresting cacti poachers. I can't imagine that they would have been digging up very large specimens, though, as the saguaro's roots are as wide as they are tall.

If you will look carefully at the photo, you will notice some holes near the top of the cactus. These are commonly made by a native woodpecker (sorry, you bird enthusiasts, I don't remember its name), but the point to remember is that these holes then become popular nesting places for other creatures, especially snakes. You can see why I didn't want to get too close to take a picture! Several of the saguaros we saw also had holes chewed out at the bottom by rabbits--apparently those cute little Easter bunnies are the bane of gardeners everywhere.

The tree above is near the entrance of the gardens, which is fitting since it is the state tree of Arizona, the palo verde. I have no idea if the trunk remains green ("verde") all year.

My other favorite in the garden were the agaves. Of course, many Midwestern gardeners have some varieties of this plant, but one desert variety was particularly interesting. I believe it was a type of century plant, but you will have to forgive my memory.

These plants live 100 years or more, but they only bloom once in their lifetime. When they do bloom, they shoot up a tall bloom and then die. Although you can't really see the plant in this picture, if you look carefully at the middle you will see a tall, slender stalk arising from this agave. I don't know why this impressed me so much--I guess it's the wonderful idea of one "last hurrah" before leaving this world.

At the end of the tour, I eagerly visited the gardens' gift shop and found much more than the usual touristy souvenirs. Unfortunately, I was running out of time when I discovered a large area filled with cacti for sale. Between trying to choose among all the interesting choices and trying to figure out the logistics of flying home with a cactus, I am sorry to say I came home empty-handed.

Again, if you are ever in Phoenix, make the time to visit these beautiful gardens. In fact, this would be the perfect time of year, since the cacti should be in bloom right now. As I sit here watching the rain fall once again today and think of my daughters sitting in tank tops watching a Cubs spring training game, I wish I was in Phoenix. But then the grass is always greener somewhere else, isn't it? And in a few weeks when my tulips and daffodils are blooming, the lawn is a lush green, and my redbud is in all its glory, there's no place I would rather be than right here at home!

Cat Quandary

That Cats are much like you and me
And other people whom we find
Possessed of various types of minds.

For some are sane and some are mad

And some are good and some are bad

And some are better, and some are worse...

---T.S. Eliot

I have always been a cat fancier. Growing up on a farm, I played with the "barn cats" whose job it was to control the mouse population. I can remember my grandfather and my father milking the cows each evening, then pouring off some of the fresh, warm milk into a pan for these workers. And every spring there was a new litter of kittens for me to tame and give strange names to. I would often sneak one or two of them into the house, trying to convince my parents they would make wonderful house pets, but unfortunately, they were always relegated to living in the barn or various sheds around our farm.

Charlie the cat was a willing substitute for one of my dolls.

Today our family has just one housecat named Toby. He is the quintessential cat: he does what he pleases, when and where he pleases. All he demands in return is a clean litterbox, a full food dish, and an occasional petting. Toby can usually be found sleeping on one of our beds, but he does enjoy finding the unusual nook or cranny for a nesting spot, particularly the highest bookshelf or the top shelf in my husband's closet. Recently, while I was babysitting my 8-month- old grandson, Toby decided that the porta-crib was the ideal napping spot and wasn't too happy when I banished him from the bedroom for the day.

"You mean you didn't set up this bed just for me?"

But living on a farm, we do have our outdoor cats as well, five to be exact. They don't dine on warm milk and mice like my childhood cats (well, I've never seen any mice, anyway; perhaps the mere presence of these five is enough to frighten the mice away), but prefer a steady diet of "Meow Mix." However, outdoor cats can present some challenges to the gardener. A freshly dug hole for a plant is an open invitation for any cat to take care of "business." And my nepeta is flattened every summer as the cats seem to find it the perfect spot to sun. (I guess there's a reason it's called catmint.) But two summers ago they added two more challenges: one, using my flowerpots as a resting place and two, using the planter on my front porch as their litterbox.

Tarzan finds a flowerpot the perfect place for sunning.

I surfed the internet for solutions to my problems and found a variety of suggestions. Many of them, though, like setting out mothballs or spraying the plants with a solution of hot pepper sauce sounded harmful, if not toxic. I decided to try the easiest and most innovative method, which was to place plastic forks, tine side up, all around the bare soil. Amazingly, it worked! The cats found my pots very uncomfortable and avoided them. Of course, my grandchildren looked at my planters in confusion until one of them asked, "Grandma, why are you growing forks in your flowerpots?"

The porch planter, however, is another story...

The cats have found the planter again this winter.

I planted geraniums, wave petunia, and different accent plants the first year we lived here, and they flourished. The summer of the cat invasion, the plants were not as hardy, needless to say.

So last spring, after arming myself with a few bags of plastic forks, I dug out about half the soil (and the "gifts" from my cats--ugh) and replaced it with new soil. Even though the forks deterred the cats from disturbing the plantings, my flowers were downright puny, and some even died. I wondered if I had over-fertilized them, but I am more likely to be guilty of neglect than overfeeding! My husband said perhaps there was excess nitrogen left from the cats and the fertilizer was, in a way, overkill. The planter is made from Indiana limestone, as is the rest of our house, and I am wondering if perhaps chemicals from the cats' deposits leached into the stone. I don't know whether to remove all the soil and start over (it takes a lot of soil to fill it) or whether I can try something else.

I really want to have the lovely planter I had a few years ago, so dear gardeners, if any of you have any suggestions, I would love to hear them. Just don't tell me to give away my cats!