It is October and I still hate armadillos

I made a mistake in a previous post and stated that by October I would stop hating armadillos. I lied. I have no idea why I randomly picked October as the month that my mood towards those lilly-livered, over sized rats with shells (and leprosy, mind you) would shift away from loathing towards benevolence. I guess I thought it would rain more and they would leave me and my garden well enough alone. What an idiot I am. My mulch paths are destroyed anew every night. My front porch is covered with dirt and mulch from the rooting. And, this is the worst, those wallets, belts and boots to be still get in the bed the rock wall was built around! The pre-historic leftovers that they are, they climb under the gate (fixed that - put in a big flagstone), through the wood pile (re-arranged, leaving no holes) and last night I have no idea how they got in.
I decided to put out a trap. It is not my first experience with trapping armadillos. Two years ago, my new cottage garden beds were being destroyed by the vermin and they would root up my newly planted perennials every night. I bought a have-a-heart trap (not that I have much of one for those armour plated flea bags) and bated it with fruit. On morning number two of trapping, I went out to run and there was no armadillo and when I returned in 45 minutes, voila - victory! It was so easy. My plan was to take him down to the creek and let him out. I was so proud of myself, I took some pictures to prove my prowess and mastery of nature and went in to have some breakfast while waiting for the sun to come up. Whilst I was enjoying my oatmeal, Army (yes, I named him) was breaking free, like a little Steve McQueen but more successfully and without a motorcycle. He just kept butting the trap door and sides until it popped up and he was gone.
So, I re-bated the trap again the next night. And again I had some measure of success. This time my trap was full first thing in the morning, but alas, full of a skunk. This presented a bit of an obvious problem. Luckily I have on my vehicle a plastic overall suit and shoulder length plastic gloves (don't ask). I donned my protective gear and started to open the back door of the trap. I had all of the pins removed without being sprayed and had the door 50% open when my new friend lost his cool. The smell of a dead skunk on the road does not do justice to the eye watering, nose incinerating blast of poison air a skunk can deliver at close range. It is a very effective defense mechanism. I wanted very badly to not be there, to not be bothering that skunk. I finished opening the door and, stripping and gagging as I ran, went through the back door to a shower with tomato sauce. Which works neither as a skunk smell remover nor as a lathering agent very well. I stunk for days, the front the house smelled for weeks and I left the armadillos alone.
As you can see, I am very angry at my current batch of armadillos, that I am willing to risk a skunk spraying in order to rid myself of them. I am baiting the trap with grub worms I dig up, which should work seeing as they are what the little beast are after in my garden soil. I hope skunks do not like grub worms as much as old grapes. So far, I've had no luck, good or bad. Just an empty trap and decomposing grubs.

Fall Pictures

Down the main axis of the Cottage Garden.

Lindheimer Senna, Autumn Sage and Rosemary.

Schoolhouse, or Oxblood, Lilly.

Stone wall, completed

I know, it looks short. That is on purpose, to provide seating during the 123rd annual Croquet Tournament this spring. I guess it will provide seating year round, but never will it play as large a role as during our April game. Many an inebriated participant will rest his or her weary rear upon this wall.

I am inordinately proud of my wall. All of the stone came off our property; all of the stone was dug, loaded, hauled and stacked by me. The joy of simple physical labor, when it is not compulsory mind you, cannot be overstated. I don't know which was more satisfying - digging up a really nice rock or stacking a good rock in the right place. In my readings on wall makings, I learned a couple of rules - stack one on two (stagger your seams) and don't cut rocks, find rocks (that fit). I will add two more - one, if you pick up a rock and try to place it in the same spot more than twice, it doesn't fit! Stop trying and throw it back. And two, if you see a rock that would fit in the area you are working on, but really had in your mind to use that rock somewhere else due to it's particular shape and color, just give in and use it now. No matter what you think you planned, a rock wall is not a jigsaw puzzle or math problem, there are no right answers, only wrong decisions that will delay your construction. You see the hole, see the rock - they fit, put it there and move on.

It is very simple. I did mention above my pride was greater than the sum of my accomplishments.

I check out rock walls as I make my daily rounds with more interest now. I have always liked them, but now I judge each wall against my own. Some I win, most I lose. As simple a task as stone masonry is, I have more than just some room for improvement.