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Recently we awoke to devastation.

Flowerpots that the night before were bursting with rich beautiful colors and spunky little upstart flowers looked as if an unbalanced barber had taken his shears to the plants.


As I worked around the kitchen, I had enjoyed one patio pot in particular filled with orange marigolds. Rumor has it that deer don’t like marigolds. 

I have to tell you that rumor about deer and  marigolds is just so much nonsense. 

Negotiations have failed.

Detente is over. The deer went too far. 


Herds of deer wander the streets of our little town as if they are the residents and we’re the interlopers. What has happened to their natural wariness? Where are the predators that keep the herd in balance? I’m not eager to look out my window to see a mountain lion chasing down an innocent fawn but I’m ready for re-enforcements. The numbers of deer have increased from being a charming perk for those of us living in the valley, to becoming a problem.


I haven’t decided on my weapons. Scarecrows? Air horns? Stinky spray? Sharpened poles? Shotguns? In the past, a neighbor tried protecting her flowers with an intricate cage of chicken wire. The deer ignored the wire and ate the flowers anyhow. Our daughter-in-law suggested a similar cage only constructed from barbed wire. Now that idea has merit. 

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