Sprouting Garden + Grackles = A Foul Death Wish

Last year, Husband seeded our backyard lawn for winter grass. He was becoming perplexed as doves began to eat our seed, making his task all the more arduous. Finally, Husband became so fed up with our pesticide problem he reverted back to his teenage days & purchased a BB gun.

Oh laws. Testosterone mixed with pellets. No good can come from this.

At first I thought it was to "scare" the birds. Something loud & obnoxious to get them to go away. Well, to my horror, one beautiful fall day I came into the backyard after Son excitedly ran in to tell me...

"Dad shot a bird! And there's blood!"

I raced into the backyard to see a trail of dove blood on our cement walkway. I followed this trail as my eyes filled with tears. (This moment solidified what century we live in.) Husband's face couldn't be anymore classic.

"My scope's off," he shrugs.

Long story short, he wasn't really aiming at the little darling, but was trying to figure out how "off" his scope really was. Whoops.

"Then it just wouldn't die," he justified.

The tears streamed down my cheeks & Son's worried face showed me he was realizing this wasn't a game. A bit traumatic for all of us that day & could have very well been a satirical parody on Saturday Night Live.

BUT... that was before these dang things...

got a hold of my sweet, sprouting baby vegetables.

I've put countless hours prepping our garden for this year's growing season. I bought organic soil, organic plants, organic food, built a shade cover, watered diligently... the list goes on... But in my ignorant bliss I'd overlooked one BIG hazard. BIRDS!

To my credit, these creatures aren't cute, tender doves. They are ugly, raven like, wrinkly taloned, razor beaked EVIL. Look at those beady, yellow eyes. I can't even make that stuff up it's so malevolent.

So after returning from church yesterday, I went out into our backyard to see my pride & joy. What do I find? Dang birds ripping out my young, sprouting tenderlings! I screamed the most guttural, horrible scream you've ever heard & then thought I might just cry. Shaking my fists at the sky, I spewed hateful words into the air as they all flew, hovering above, mocking me I'm sure.

How did I not know this part of the process? How did I not know stupid grackle birds like to eat baby sprouts?

Well I do now.

What did I do today, you ask? I bought a bird blocker. Yep. I rigged my precious square foot garden with that baby & it now looks like Alcatraz. {Pictures to come--swear.} I'd like to see a crappy bird try to get in there.

This experience has enlightened me how farmers could kill little critters that got into their gardens. I used to stick out my bottom lip when I'd hear those stories thinking how inhumane those brutes must have been. I'm no brute. I just want to grow my own freaking veggies.

So it's on. Your move grackles. Back off. 'Cuz I got a gun with a shoddy scope.