Eliminating Vermin

Weather: The week was gray with unfulfilled promises of rain not delivered.

NOAA, better known as the weather bureau, changed its menu for accessing satellite photographs. It’s now easier to switch from one region to another, and see the Pacific Ocean and the west coast. Since this is the first winter I’ve looked at it, I don’t yet know what’s normal. What struck me may have been commonplace.

In summer, much of our moisture comes from the area southwest of the tip of Baja where ocean waters warmed by the summer sun contact cooler ones to produce hurricanes. The moisture is sent towards us.

This past week, there was a tremendous turmoil farther west in the Pacific. It was about the time a typhoon hit the Philippines on 24 December. The moisture spun around a center at the north end of Baja, but when it came inland it went north into Arizona and east into southwestern Texas. We just got the wisps that drifted between the two streams.

Last snow: 12/29. Week’s low: 16 degrees F. Week’s high: 51 degrees F in the shade.

What’s green: Leaves on juniper and other evergreens, cliff rose, yuccas, pink evening primroses, one snapdragon, one alfilerillo, blue flax growing in tiles, a few hollyhocks, coral bells; juniper dropping its berries

What’s red or purple: Leaves on coral beard tongues; new growth on roses, apricots, and peaches, branches of sweet cherries

Tasks: A few seed catalogs appeared in the mailbox the day after Christmas.

Animal sightings: Small prints of bird feet along the garage path and veering into the bed. I don’t know that they were eating. The most likely seeds were the purple coneflowers.

Weekly update: When the varmint first began destroying my plants in 2006, I thought it was a gopher because it left huge mounds of dirt. It wasn’t until I actually saw a squirrel in my garden that I realized I might have been wrong.

In the meantime, I tried to find ways to get rid of gophers.

One day I was putting rose bushes into the trunk of my car in the parking lot of the local hardware store, when someone came up to evangelize me. When her husband joined her, the conversation changed from God to plants. I think he was a Sikh.

I mentioned I had problems with gophers and didn’t know what to do.

He told me a local feed store had something that worked. He gave me the owner’s name, rather than the name of the store.

For the next couple years I asked people if they knew where that store was located, but no one knew, not even people with that name.

Finally, I went into one of the stores and asked if they had anything that killed gophers. Someone pointed me to the appropriate shelves and left.

I bought something that said it would work, but didn’t pay much attention to it until I got it home. The active ingredient was arsenic.

All I knew about it, other than it tinted glass green, was what I leaned in Agatha Christie mysteries. Murders were always being doing with bits of arsenic left in the garden shed.

I marveled. The last time I bought a small bottle of rubber cement, I had to show an ID. When I made some remark, the clerk started treating me like I was some kind of criminal. I’ve avoided her checkout lane since. Sniffing rubber cement is hard, and the taste is bitter.

When I bought the arsenic, all they asked for was my credit card.

They left me with a greater disposal problem than eradicating gophers. I left the jar unopened in an old refrigerator in the garage.

Two years ago I was cleaning out my garage. I included it in a box of paint I was taking to the landfill. They were hosting a hazardous material day. It apparently was sponsored by some federal or other outside group who sent it its own truck and crew.

It was a rainy Saturday morning in October when I took my place in a line of contractors’ pickup trucks. The crew emptied my car with no questions. I supposed it was going to someplace with even more poisonous substances. Lord know what kind of brew was created when everything in that truck was emptied into some pit.

I makes little sense to think the man I talked to was a Sikh if his wife was trying to convince me of Christ’s saving nature. The only reason that association stayed in my mind was he told me the stuff the local store sold came from Pakistan.

Notes on photographs:
1. Ground squirrel in my garden, 26 July 2008; taken through the window with the zooming function.

2. Mound in near my house,  1 October 2006.

3. Mound near a cholla cactus that it eventually destroyed, 23 December 2010.

The Creature and the Can

Weather: Afternoon temperatures warmed yesterday when clouds moved in from the west, but they were diverted north. We got little moisture, a little wind, and enough humidity to moisture in the ground from evaporating.

Last useful rain: 12/8. Week’s low: 18 degrees F. Week’s high: 62 degrees F in the shade.

What’s green: Leaves on juniper and other evergreens, cliff rose, yuccas, chives, grape hyacinth, bouncing Bess, pink evening primroses, snapdragons, alfilerillo, blue flax, hollyhock, vinca, violets, sweet peas, coral bells, Queen Anne’s lace, Shasta daisy, anthemis, white and yellow yarrow, purple aster, cheat grass; bases of needle grass; rose canes

What’s gray or gray-green: Leaves on snow-in-summer, catmint

What’s red or purple: Leaves on coral beard tongues

Tasks: Afternoons remained too cool for working outside.

Animal sightings: Small birds.

Weekly update: Ground squirrels like members of the rose family. When they first appeared in my yard in 2005 they left mounds in the drainage ditch in front of the house. I remember going out in February in a rain suit and boots and stomping them down so the thawing water could move.

The next spring, two miniature rose bushes were dead, and two produced little growth. They still have not recovered.

A few years later a neighbor told me gophers had destroyed their peach tree. By then I had called a exterminator who told me there was no evidence of gophers in the area.

I slowly realized the problem was another rodent, a ground squirrel, when it began systematically attacking my cholla cacti.

In 2015 I had my apple trees cut down because only the root stock survived, and it never even bloomed. I replaced them with four crab apples. They did better, but one was listing in the spring of 2017.

When I touched it, it fell over. The root was completely gone. Crab apples like peaches are in the rose family.

Two years ago I ordered trees to replace it and the remaining apples. When I went to dig one hole, I opened a ground squirrel tunnel so wide I had to abandon putting a tree in that spot. It would take more dirt than I had easily available to fill, and would drain away any water. It also created a create air hole that would destroy roots.

Once I’ve unpacked the bare root stock I don’t have time to solve problems; I feel compelled to get them planted. I put the tree at the far end of the line.

This past spring I ordered another tree for that opening. Long before it arrived, I bought a tin can to stuff into the opening. When I went into the grocery store I had in mind one of those 4.25" wide ones used for whole tomatoes. This being Española the store didn’t have whole tomatoes, but did have whole jalapeños. I bought the cheapest ones.

My only problem was what to do with them. I opened the can on trash day, and drained the liquid in the sink. I put the peppers in the trash, and saved the can.

When the bare root tree arrived, I stuffed the can in the hole and packed it with a little dirt. It must have worked because the tree survived.

When I saw that hole last week under a block, it took me a few days to realize the ground squirrel was targeting that crab apple at the far end of the row. The tree may have been more than 3' away, but that animal is an engineer.

I faced the same problem this time. There was no visible mound left by the digging, and I needed to fill the area under the block to keep it from rocking and breaking. Instead of hunting for dirt somewhere, I bought soup cans that are 4.25" long and 3.25" wide.

I had learned one thing from my past experience: I didn’t want anything I had to discard. Broth would have been ideal, but I accepted what was available. Condensed tomato soup. I put the contents in a colander and ran water until it was completely washed away and became dinner for the bacteria in the septic system.

Tuesday it was 46 degrees. I went out with the cans and tools. I used the chisel to lift the block, then pushed the steel point down. The ground was wet, but cold. The chisel sank into the hole. After pushing it down every few inches I was able to punch the dirt into the tunnel. The cans just fit the amount of dirt the critter had evacuated.

I put the can ends on the outside, so nothing could crawl into them. I don’t need my neighbor’s snakes.

On the crab apple side of the block, the tunnel continued unseen under the alfalfa and other vegetation.

The ground squirrel can reopen the tunnel, but now I’m walking out there more often to check. It tends to stay away when it thinks it’s being watched.

Now I think I know why those miniature roses are still doing poorly. I suspect tunneled air spaces are still under them that prevent the roots from growing much.

Notes on photographs:
1. Remains of gnawed crab apple root, 7 May 2017.
2. Ground squirrel tunnel opening, carefully hidden by grass, 11 December 2019.
3. Soup cans filling ground displaced by the tunnel, 11 December 2019.

It Didn’t Happen

Weather: It rained a little Thursday and has misted all day today.

Last useful rain: 12/8. Week’s low: 17 degrees F. Week’s high: 53 degrees F in the shade.

What’s green: Leaves on juniper and other evergreens, cliff rose, yuccas, red hot poker, chives, grape hyacinth, bouncing Bess, pink evening primroses, golden spur columbine, snapdragons, alfilerillo, blue flax, hollyhock, vinca, violets, sweet peas, coral bells, Queen Anne’s lace, Shasta daisy, anthemis, white and yellow yarrow, purple aster, cheat grass; bases of needle grass; rose canes

What’s gray or gray-green: Leaves on snow-in-summer, catmint

What’s red or purple: Leaves on coral beard tongues

Tasks: The window of time that’s convenient and warm enough to work outside is shrinking as we approach the equinox. I got out one afternoon and cut some winterfat branches; they didn’t seem like they were dormant yet.

Animal sightings: Small birds. The rabbit used the snow-covered graveled path before I went out late Friday morning. The ground squirrel has dug a hole under a block I laid in a path this summer.

Weekly update: It snowed hard the day before Thanksgiving. I think at least 3" accumulated here. The Jémez, including Tchicoma were white from top to bottom.

Then, it started to rain, and by late Thursday, it was like it never happened. Trees in the mountains again dotted the snow.

The ground froze a little so I couldn’t open the gate again. This time, it was in a different place. The area that I cleared last spring was fine, but now an area up hill heaved. It was one of those problems one doesn’t discover until the first problem is fixed. Then, it’s like the repair never happened.

The ground hasn’t really frozen, and so it was possible to kick off enough dirt for the gate to clear. But, since I don’t know when the ground will harden, I’m still leaving my car outside.

Frozen ground seems to be more complex than I thought. All one ever reads is that, to be safe, water and irrigation pipes must be buried. The depth depends on the part of the country. And, I suspect all any contractor or plumber knows is the magic number. The process doesn’t matter.

Last year when it rained in January the water couldn’t sink into the ground because the ground was frozen. Then it was after a month of cold mornings.

This year, while the mornings have been cold since the end of October, the ground was so dry no water could freeze. Since that snow, the morning temperatures often have been above 20 degrees. That apparently was not enough to freeze more than the top layer that blocked the gate. As soon as the day warmed into the 40s, the snow could melt and sink into the still absorbent ground.

At least, so far, the gravel I was able to dump before the snow has been sufficient to keep the path by the house from flooding in the rain or turning to mud.

The path I extended at the far end of the property, however, has been attacked by the ground squirrel. For reasons not clear it dug a hole under one of the blocks, weakening it so it can’t be used. Perhaps its warmer under the block or safer from predators.

I thought, since it seemed to have moved under a shed in my neighbor’s yard, that I was safe from its depredations. That too was only a chimera.

Notes on photographs: All taken 8 December 2019.
1. Fruit on flowering crab apple.
2. Berry on one-seeded juniper (Juniperus monosperma).
3. Fruit of Cheyenne privet (Ligustrum vulgare).