In Writing

I came home from my hike yesterday all wired up and ready to tackle trimming back this monster runaway rosebushes I’ve been meaning to cut back to make room for iris. I’ve been putting it off. Guess what… I should have kept on putting it off.

It’s in the highest corner of my sloped yard where I don’t often go. When I finally went up there, I found some forensic evidence I wish I hadn’t seen. Let’s just say… it was clear deer had visited recently. I’d been lulled into a false sense of security recently in my woman/deer war because they haven’t been voraciously snacking on my plants and… oh, because my yard is fully fenced. And also because I’m about 3 miles outside of Manhattan in an urban/suburban area where DEER SHOULD NOT LIVE.

But that’s not the upsetting part. Right next to the deer pellets were the biggest droppings of anything I’ve ever seen (sorry if that’s graphic, but feel blessed I opted against posting the pictures). I mean… big. Like a bear, maybe? Right next to the deer stuff. Do baby deer and grownup deer leave different calling cards? It hardly seems possible these two piles of… er, evidence… could have come some the same species.

Anyway, just a reminder that sometimes hard work is just hard. And gross.

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