To snare the miscreant

Per my last post, I'd decided to defeat the miscreant who was snitching my twine by using the green elastic tape on my patio umbrella and to train the mandevilla to the arbor post. I set the game camera to record so I could know what was happening.

Precisely this: nothing. Not a nibble, not a bite. Either said miscreant, be it crow or raccoon, has left the vicinity, no longer needs my twine, or is waiting me out until I turn the camera off. So today, I tied twine about the umbrella. I did not remove the elastic tape, but I must admit to baiting the trap.

So far, it's animal world 2, Kay 0. I'm still hoping for a tie. Or at least not to be skunked.

Once again, I face a worthy opponent

It's not like I'm a stranger to this. For years, I've been at the mercy/beck'n'call of four-footed creatures. They either act like they own me (the cats and I suppose they do, as in "dogs have masters, cats have staff") or they trample all over my efforts to maintain some sort of decorum in the back yard. Raccoons, possums, squirrels.

And now I face a new conundrum. I know the raccoons are back because the cats' water bowl is periodically tipped over and I have a new photo of them on the game camera. But I'm not sure the raccoons are up to this latest bit of deviltry.

Let me explain.

After losing several patio table umbrellas to high winds/ice, I have finally learned that lesson and keep the current one tied down unless we're under it. Also, I love mandevillas and have three of them spaced around the patio. Two are climbing up torch poles and then to the fence. One I am trying very hard to coax up the arbor piling. To that end, I tied garden twine around the pole and the mandevilla. All was going well until I looked and the twine was gone. And the patio umbrella tie. No evidence of either.

Not on the ground, not blown to the other side of the yard. Hmmm. Now, who would take them? So, I tied twine again and a slight piece of rope I half-hitched around the umbrella. (I knew macrame knotting would eventually come in handy.) Two days later, they were gone.

I can cross several suspects off my list: neither cats, possums, or squirrels are capable of this. Raccoons are dextrous enough, but why? And then a friend suggested that most clever of birds, the crow.

We have crows. I've heard them. I've tied that green elastic garden stuff around the pole and the umbrella this time. Double knotted. And the game camera is aimed at the table.

I'm ready. Bring it on.

Spray painting my way to fame and glory

For over 20 years our backyard consisted of bad grass, two old hackberrys, a disappearing sidewalk, and the trash cans. We didn't use it, preferring instead to perch on the front porch in the swing and watch the world go by. After we spruced up the house in 2001-2, we decided the backyard needed a makeover too and we had a patio poured. Then we landscaped. Planted a new tree. Bought furniture. And all of a sudden, I had twice as many flower beds to take care of as before (division of labor: spouse mows, I flower) and I wasn't particularly good at what I had to start with.

But I found I could still rise to the occasion and I'm in the midst of flower bed revival right now. I'm not keeping track of how much I'm spending, just trying to concentrate on perennials. Spend it once and benefit for five years. That's my motto.

So what does any of this have to do with spray paint? The year we bought our metal furniture, all fashionable in bronze tones, my mother-in-law did away with her green metal in favor of something else, and we inherited the green. It was about this time that I remembered my mother's trick with the refrigerator: poor thing, it went from white to harvest gold to copper, depending on the fashion and Mother's inclination.

So there I stood at the spray paint aisle of the local big box and was amazed. Crowded alongside the whites and blacks and primary colors were hammered paints and paints that would speckle! There was matte and gloss. There was the answer to my multi-hued backyard furniture.

I turned everything into hammered brown except the old six-tiered basket holder. It became whiter. Each spring I've replenished them and this year, I pulled the "copper" cats off the front porch and made them pumpkin, sea foam, and daisy. And if I tire of that? Oh, I think I know where the goods are sold.