I minor skirmish.

This is a picture from last year.  Seems we once again have a bumper crop of grapes, and I guess the word got around.  So last night there was another bandit type visitor flummoxing around on the grape vine. 

Not for long!

As one of my sisters-in-law aptly put it a number of years ago,  “They sound like old men in over coats”,  so it’s not like I have super hearing or anything.

So I took to the corn broom and hose.    I think I did get in one good whack over his little noggin’,  but even that wasn’t enough to settle the issue.  I had to break out the hose. 

That was too much,  so he “decamped”. 

Of course, I knew he’d be back,  and I was just riled up enough to make sure I dug through my little “treasures” to find some sheet metal.  Hey,  I have lights in the shed after all.

There was no way I was going to guard a paltry few grapes for the rest of the night.

And yes,  I said a paltry few grapes,  but the little buggers make such a mess.  And it’s the principle of the thing.  My grapes.

Not much metal was needed,  and I found a handy dandy little piece I had removed from one corner of the house that had been used as a squirrel deterrent. 

Worth hanging onto.

There’s a certain evil delight in hearing the sound of little claws on metal,  all the while knowing that the grapes are once again safe.  Bwahaha!

Go away ye little bugger! 

Is that mean?  

You can judge me,  I don’t care.

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

Sticks.  Ice.  All that.