I’VE BEEN OUT ON LONG ISLAND this mostly dreary weekend, which confirmed that early March is not my favorite time of year. It’s those last weeks before green shoots emerge and buds pop that are the hardest.
I had planned to do a bit of yard work — cutting back grasses, re-planting frost-heaved perennials, picking up storm damage — but I didn’t. It wasn’t the drizzle. It wasn’t laziness. It was discouragement.
The deer damage is extensive. I don’t know if it’s because I wasn’t here much this winter, like I was last, or because I planted a lot of new stuff in the fall — evergreen stuff that ought to be green and is now mere twig. They went after hollies and skip laurel. Mountain laurel, too. And the ilex (above and below) that I hoped would provide screening. In some cases where shrubs are bare, I’m not sure whether they’re deciduous or de-nuded. I’d have to look it up, and I haven’t even had the heart to do that.
Early in the weekend, I got out my supplies for making a batch of homemade deer repellent. Then I put it all away. They’ve already eaten everything. Either it will come back or it won’t.
I ought to have gone in for the burlap treatment like my neighbors, below. That would have been do-able, and I’m pissed at myself that I didn’t do it.
The subject of deer fencing is hereby re-opened.
On a brighter note, below, I now have a bathroom sink.