by cheri block
Yesterday, a little before 10:00 am, trespassers entered our property, how we do not know. Stealthily, one step at a time, in a single-file line lead by the eldest, they quietly edged toward the creek, over which lies our newly planted olive orchard.
Staying close to the fence, striving for invisibility by delicately placing each hoof in the softest of dirt, four thieves made their way toward the most tender salad on the Rancho, trying to avoid the snap of a stick, the crunch of a leaf.
I stopped the important and challenging work I was doing and put down my mascara wand.
I hustled down the stairs, out the front door, past the turkeys and the Labrador Dinah, all of whom were idly watching the thieves, oblivious to the impending damage about to be done to the olive salad across the creek.
Turkeys will be turkeys and Labradors will be Labradors, but sometimes situations call for new behaviors. It may surprise you to learn that I did nothing.
That’s right. Nothing. I did not slip and slide down our muddy hillside, hurdle the creek while screaming Get out of here, or hysterically chase the Yearling and Bambi and the others into a frenetic oblivion, one that would surely arise because the olive orchard is protected by a brand new eight-foot, secure deer fence, guaranteed to keep out all potential diners. Should I frighten them, the offenders would crash again and again into the fencing, chaotically scattering, like pin balls.
Instead, I did what every wife would do in said situation. I called up to the person whose new hobby is supposed to be the olive orchard, the person I could see through the upstairs window shaving his handsome face.
Oh Hizzoner! Oh Hizzoner! You might want to come see what is about to happen! Deer are in your orchard. Yep. There they are, four of them.
Despite the fact that Hizzoner was readying himself to be in another city to conduct business, he raced down the stairs and jumped the creek in one athletic leap, but the deer had fled. For now, they would hide somewhere in the dense foliage, protected by poison oak.
I was instructed to guard the orchard while Hizzoner left town for a day.
This task I did not relish but took on with the sincerity of a teenage girl, asked to watch her bratty little brothers.
In fact, later in the day, my shoes caked with adobe mud, I sent this email to Hizzoner:
Dear Sir,
Your deer scout bundled up, crossed the divide, and followed the deer tracks from their early morning trespass.
She is pleased to report that the only living things in the orchard, other than the trees themselves and the weeds at their ankles, were about fifty turkeys.
Your scout listened attentively for sounds of movement in the creek bed, but all she heard was the gurgle of the turkeys.
As of now, the trees are safe.
She will make several more scouting expeditions tomorrow, one at the crack of dawn and several others before she leaves for yoga.
Should you require any additional information, you can answer the e-mails that she sends to you.
Natty Bummpo
The Deerslayer
hilarious and well documented! love these posts. I love your little business card.I obviously fell down on that request during the work load i just completed. forgive me. you ask so little of me. I am now onto the olive oil label and bottle for your perusal in spring. Love, cindy
Cindy Block Usedom Cindy and Partners
Cell: 510-501-4140 Office: 925-426-3760 http://www.cindyandpartners.com
Fabulous picture with the deer. Where is it from?
Cindy! You do enough for everyone.
I believe I have used this photo before on my blog but can’t remember where.
The photo was taken about 1 mile up our road, looking north. The mountain in the background is Mt. Diablo.
It is timeless and immortal. Like friendship.
There’s a Chinese or Japanese stillness about it, too.
You won’t let the tax man drag you and Hizonner away, will you?
You are correct Sir Richard about friendship.
You are also an astute observer of the Zen nature of this nature.
I hope not.
The future is now, and always was, I suppose. So is all the fret and mayhem.
I understand your first sentence, but I have a lingering question about the “the future is now, and always was, I suppose.” Why buy life insurance?
Fret and mayhem?
That’s right. It’s all in your post.
The wonderful immediacy of this post made me grab another sweater to brave the early morning fog and help protect the olive orchard from the thieves. But thievery aside, aren’t they magnificent against the backdrop of Diablo? You can almost smell the clean morning air.
I will agree to their magnificence.
I see deer often, grazing on a mountainous misty golf course I like to walk along. Whenever I see these deer it makes my day, as your seeing the deer in your photo may have made yours.
I have photographed many deer, Christopher, up here in our environs. The way they step, so gingerly through the forest, always raises my spirits. I will try to find some of my other photographs of deer.
For a fleeting moment, before reaching the end of your post, I feared that you would shoot the thieves. You did shoot them, but with a camera, what a civilized way to behave. And a beautiful picture it is.
Well Paul, I only shoot rattlesnakes. My civility has been tested by the turkeys. I think I might be able to shoot one of those. Never a deer. Even if they ate every single leaf off every single olive tree. When are you coming to the Rancho?
I’m afraid it will not be in the near future…but I’m not giving up just yet.
That’s good. It’s important to have things in the future to look forward to and to ponder.
If I didn’t know better I would have thought your wild and wicked Dinah had told her friends about the new neighborhood delectable and that’s why she pretended she didn’t see the herd. And oh, the master of hobbies and house knew what he was doing calling upon you, Cheri, to report.
Every good wife loves those opportunities which present so naturally to say, dare I use a cliché, “I told you so.”
Happy New Year and thank you for making this PA wife smile.
MJ
What a cute picture on your Gravatar, MJ.
Yes. What you observe in your second paragraph is indeed true. To think I didn’t have to say anything. Actually, this response is part of my intention to jump into activities I choose.
I like to be in the olive orchard but not weeding, chasing deer and turkeys, or examining the bases of each tree for earwigs. As I said, the orchard is not my hobby. I will, however, partake in the oil it produces.
Happy New Year to you Mary Jane.
I have something of a love-hate relationship with deer–adorable and furry and all that, but they have an unhealthy fascination (for them and us both) with lurking about hairpin curves on two lane highways, and they have eaten more shrubbery around my various domiciles than I care to remember. As far as Cooper goes, it’s been years since I’ve read him, but I remember that relationship as more of a hate-hate nature. This post, however, goes well beyond simply charming.
Thank you.
I’m with you concerning Cooper. That’s why I so love Fenimore Cooper’s Literary Offenses written by Twain. What a riot.