Gas Pains

Tom grew up in Milwaukee, bartended in Wauwatosa in the '70s and moved here in 1984.

Commentary, observations and musings about the outdoors, life in general and maybe Tosa politics and personalities will be the order of the day. He savors a lively debate as much as terrific cooking.


Critters, Gardening

Yesterday dawned with sweet corn on my mind.

It was bi-color perfection as far as corn goes. 

And it was ready to pick.

Yet, approaching the garden something did not look quite right.

The corn stalks were awkwardly askew -and the cobs were all over the place.


My corn.

Something has gone horribly wrong.

This was the crime scene that greeted me-

My precious sweet corn was an unmitigated disaster.

Having never suffered such a devastating gardening loss I stood there stunned and dumb-struck.

Each and every single last ear of ripe and ready sweet corn was stripped and cleaned from the cob.  Even the younger ears from the second planting were eaten clean-off.

The entire 2009 harvest was gone.

Gone I tell you.

I felt violated.

(The corn probably felt worse.)

Trembling - it began to sink-in.

No using of the new-fangled device to shear the cobs of their kernels - no whole kernel corn.  There would be no February roast corn on the cob.

My plans for canned corn relish have been dashed.

Shock and bewilderment eventually gave way to anger.

Only one creature is capable of such a heinous act.  But this had to be the coordinated work of more than one.

The answer was revealed when the  pictures were uploaded from the trail camera's memory card-

Mama raccoon with her four youngsters in tow.

I am done with this nonsense.

The gloves are off.

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