Time to Break Free

With no rain predicted for at least the next 24 hours, I finally managed to spray the chestnut trees with deer repellant (Plantskydd by name). I had finished about a third when I suddenly heard Phil call me faintly (the acoustics of where I was standing must have been just right). "I need you!"

So I dropped the sprayer and ran. Based on the direction of the call, and the fact that he sounded urgent but not frantic, I figured no one was injured. Perhaps the pigs had finally broken free?

And, yes, the pigs had broken out. Phil, up working on fencing, came down for a drink and suddenly wondered where the pigs were ... in the garden! Incredibly, the five pigs didn't actually do any damage. They were grazing on the grass around the edges, not trampling my tomato plants or smooshing my lettuce. Phil had managed to corral the five with the lure of whey, but had temporarily misplaced the wire needed to hold the cattle panels together. While he ran to get a wire substitute, Chunky broke free again. So Phil called me.

It's not easy to hold pigs in. If they had really determined to break free, they probably could have, with just my weight standing on the fence. They could have lifted me. Happily, they were not fiercely determined, and Phil wired them in successfully.

He realized later that he had simply forgotten to feed them this morning. Without adequate communication with negligent farmers, they took matters into their own trotters!

The other unusual animal experience today was when Phil went up to shear another black sheep and found Isabella flat on her back. We haven't seen that before, but a quick internet search reminded me of what I had heard as a child: a sheep on its back cannot get onto its feet again. So a quick tug on her legs, and Isabella staggered off, and began grazing within a few minutes. How she happened to fall on her back, I'm not sure. Those four inch variations of height don't seem to be that hazardous.

The weather is HOT: 92, and feels a bit hotter. Phil and I spent the hours from 1pm to 4pm inside in the air conditioning. Then I went back out to finish spraying while Phil finishing stringing fence.

The spraying was physically strenuous, with a four gallon backpack sprayer without padding on the hip area. Ouch! Many, many of the chestnut trees have been chewed, though whether by deer or by bugs, I'm not sure. There were about 20 that appeared dead, but that's only two percent of the trees. Most had been chewed, and most have been overshadowed by the ryegrass, triticale, and field peas. As time passed, I became fairly good at spotting the trees in the midst of runaway growth.

I was much relieved when the project was finished. I went and showered, trying to get rid of the terrible itching on all exposed body parts. The plants fight back!