Groundhog's lucky day

AUBURN, Maine —  My neighbor and I were forced to take this groundhog out for a long walk.

It would be a one-way ride. The furry critter wasn't coming back. We didn't want the darn thing around the neighborhood. It was bringing down property values. Enraged gardeners were arming themselves with pitchforks, razor-sharp sickles, guns and Sherman tanks.

Don Michael Corleone reacted the same way in "The Godfather," when the family discovered Sal Tessio had become a traitor and was part of a conspiracy to eliminate poor Michael.

Like Tessio, the groundhog was about to disappear from Bennett Street for good. Its fate was sealed after it ravaged my broccoli plants. The animal was responsible for several missing tomato plants in my neighbor's yard. We knew the little scoundrel couldn't resist the fresh broccoli stored in the trap.

I wanted revenge and my pound of flesh.

Well, our neighbor bagged the fat fella.

I looked at the groundhog trapped in my neighbor's cage. It tried to buy itself time,  almost saying,"For old time's sake, Tony."

"Can't do it, groundhog," I coldly said. "Not this time."

Tessio's pleas for mercy were also ignored after the order was given by the Don to eliminate the bushwhacking Sal.

I looked at the nervous hairball in the cage. This animal was responsible for killing off three broccoli plants. It was murder, I tell ya. Those vegetables never had a chance against this animal's sharp teeth. I was damned if I would continue to contribute to this groundhog's vegetarian lifestyle.

It had to pay for the damaged seedlings, and we had to make an example of the hairy pest. If not, all groundhogs might think they could waltz into any backyard for a free meal.

After watching my garden survive six days of torrential rain, I wasn't about to let this scavenger make a meal out of my small farm.

But knocking off this cute, obese SOB was out of the question.

Groundhogs are nervous wrecks. They are always looking over their shoulders for the law. A little bit of noise sends them heading for the hills. These compact fat guys can really move when they are under duress.

Don decided to pack up his trap with the groundhog and relocate it about 10 miles from our neighborhood. It was sort of witness protection program for groundhogs that run amok.

But the location will remain undisclosed because there are some gardeners still seeking revenge.
And I want no part of a vigilante group.

After all, I am a friend to dogs, animals, bugs and groundhogs.

But nobody messes with Dad's Garden! 

Nobody!

Just ask Tessio.

Green thumbs up

AUBURN, Maine — A sunny forecast means all systems are go to plant my garden this Memorial Day weekend.

I am giddy just thinking about it because Mother Nature has given me the green light to get down and dirty with the rich soil in my well-groomed backyard.

I have an old beat-up radio on standby for that afternoon. Listening to the Red Sox, no matter how pathetic they might be, is a glorious way to spend an afternoon planting a garden. And then there is the option of imbibing a dark beer brewed right here in the Pine Tree State.

Sure, Mother Nature is an old fuss and quite sassy, but according to our local weathermen, the sun will burn brightly in the sky. If our weathermen screw up, I will know who to blame, and I will become as nasty as Mother Nature. I will show up with the rest of the farmers bearing sickles and torches, calling the weathermen out.

I know how these town folk can be when the weather lets them down.

Of course, we are talking about an extended forecast that can change on a dime in New England. Weather is fickle up here in north country. Never ever take your eye off the forecast — especially if you are a serious gardener like me. It is like taking your eye off a Clemens fastball that can peel away your skin with its velocity.

All gardeners mean business even though they understand they are at the mercy of the elements.

But if Mother Nature delivers this weekend, I am weeks away from eating fresh fruit and vegetables. It also means I won't be handing over my money to grocery stores to purchase expensive produce that is anything but organic.

Here on the Ponderous, we don't use chemicals and other crap to grow vegetables. It is verboten. I am like a damn hippy when it comes to going all natural to raise stuff you can eat without getting poisoned. I know Little Joe, Hoss, Adam and the patriarch of the family — Ben Cartwright — would agree with me.

Sure, I use fertilizer to get the ball rolling, but it is all natural compost. No dam chemicals.

I ran the tiller over my garden a second time last weekend, and since it is nothing more than one giant compost pile, the soil is looking real good.

So it is off to Farmer Whitings to purchase seedlings and to visit with fellow gardeners who also like to see things grow.

The rest is up to nature.

Garden Party

 AUBURN, Maine — I'd rather reach for a rake or a shovel than a weapon when life goes awry.

People are killing each other over the lamest excuses, but I spend hours growing a garden and watching my son mature into a fine young man each summer.

When I am angry, I get down and dirty with a hoe, worms, spiders, and a handful of seeds. I experience paradise when I tune into a Boston Red Sox game on the radio while I weed the garden. Life doesn't get any better on a warm summer day - especially when Boston is beating up the Yankees.

Growing vegetables is no longer a pastime. It has become a necessity thanks to rising fuel prices and shrinking natural resources. Buying food means taking out a short-term loan every week, and if you are trying to eat healthy, I hope your wallet is filled with cash. And if you don't munch on the right foods, doctors don't mind taking your money as you battle obesity.

The world is upside down, our leaders no longer lead, and people ignore each other as they bang out useless texts on their overused cell phones.

We've gone to hell in a hand basket, but there has been one constant through the years - gardening. The nation is ruled by it like an army of empty stomachs.

The garden is my refuge. All this patch of earth demands is water, natural fertilizer and a great deal of tender loving care. And what do you get from all this dirt? Big, beautiful vegetables free of chemicals. If you have a big yard, dig up a slice of it and plant vegetables. Life will be easier at the cash register and your health will only improve.

And your pallet and stomach will thank you for it.

While May was a cruel month thanks to eight days of cold rain, summer turned the corner when June arrived. I planted the last day of May, which is traditional in central Maine. The ground is no longer cold, the sun is stronger and there is less of threat of a late frost - a garden's arch-enemy. It's been known to happen here in the hinterlands.

I watch this annual experiment in my backyard take root as the warm sun strengthens my yearlings. I add natural fertilizer around each plant to give my vegetables a boost - and then I cross my fingers and think of one the greatest gardeners in the world - my grandfather - who arrived in the United States in 1904 from the old country - Italy. His tomatoes were second to none and my grandmother made an excellent pasta sauce out of the fruits of his labor.

It is late June and I am already consuming freshly grown lettuce. I planted 18 heads of the green stuff and it is doing well. I have two apple and cherry trees blooming and raspberries, blue berries, and grapes are ripening on the vine.

The lettuce is way out in front, but now my other vegetables are catching up as July makes its warm and welcomed approach. My cucumbers (I had one casualty) are crawling along the ground and my tomatoes (one KIA) are inching up through their iron cages. My zucchini and summer squash are blooming and it won't be long before they see the inside of my skillet. Broccoli is a picture of health and my carrots (I planted them by seed) have burst through the soil. I am now waiting on my melons and cauliflower to make an appearance.

I eagerly await for all my vegetables to come to fruition because you can't buy produce that is pesticide free - and there are vegetable casseroles to be made in my kitchen.

So stay away from the dollar menu and burn off a few pounds raising a garden. Your digestive track will be grateful and you keep doctors at arms length.