I don’t
really bother with New Year resolutions. I struggle to think of anything I
think I might actually keep, for a start. But this year I swear I’m going to
keep my one resolution. I am going to give up trying to grow tulips outside on
the terrace of the flat.
This is
quite a wrench as I do love tulips and they come in such gorgeous colours and
varieties; I like the black Queen of the Night ones and the greeny white ones
and the little parrot ones and the tall red ones – I would just love to have them in flower outside my
kitchen. But, unfortunately, squirrels
like them just as much as I do.
I’m talking
about Canadian Grey Squirrels, here, of course (we still call them “Canadian”
because you have to blame someone for
the destructive little devils).They’ve completely supplanted red squirrels over
most of England. In fact I’ve only see a red squirrel a couple of times in my
life, whereas the grey variety are pretty hard to miss. They empty a bird table
in ten seconds. If you put out fat balls, they run off with the whole thing the
minute it appears. Bird feeders, even those designed to be squirrel proof, might
prove a problem to them for a few days, but then the wretched animals will find
a way to snaffle all the nuts and seeds at one go. If you bang on the window they gaze
indignantly at you. “Can’t you see I’m working here?” The only way to scare
them off is to run outside yelling. This is likely to lead other people to be
alarmed, in fact much more alarmed than the squirrels deign to be. Especially when one runs out in one’s pyjamas.
Unfortunately
squirrels are very fond of tulip bulbs. Daffodils and hyacinths are poisonous,
so that’s OK – I would positively encourage the squirrels to eat those, but
sadly they know better. When we were in our old house, I used to cover the soil
over the tulip bulbs with a thick layer of dried pelleted chicken poo. That kept them off! It smelt horrible, but it lasted all winter,
was presumably good for the bulbs, and the garden was big enough for it not to
be a problem for us. The terrace isn’t that big, and pots liberally covered
with chicken poo so close to one’s windows are not appealing.
Phil was so
fed up with their cheek, he sent for a squirrel trap. Unfortunately he hadn’t
considered what he would do when once he caught a squirrel. It’s against the
law to release them, so if you catch a squirrel you are faced with the choice
of killing it or keeping it as a pet. The second option appealed to neither of
us. Phil thought he could kill any he caught, but I pointed out that the RSPCA
says that the only humane way to kill a squirrel is with a sharp blow to the
head. Well, that was never going to happen. The squirrel would be rocketing
about the cage shrieking while Phil tried to beat it to death. So we got rid of
the squirrel trap.
After it
had gone, a neighbour, a pleasant elderly lady, confided that she had a
squirrel trap. Having caught a squirrel, she introduces one end of a plastic
pipe into the cage. The squirrel runs down the pipe and into the sock she fixes
at the other end. Then she whams the sock on the ground. One dead squirrel,
humanely killed and already in its shroud. This made us realise we are not cut
out for hunting.
This autumn
just past, I went into the market for something else entirely, and was led
astray by the tulip bulbs. I chose a lovely selection, four varieties, two to
bloom together in one pot, and another two to bloom a little later in the
other. I also bought some strong plastic netting. I planted the bulbs and
covered the pots with four layers of netting, held down with pegs, and secured
by plastic string tied tightly over the netting and round the top of the pot.
All seemed
to go well. The squirrels paid very little attention to the pots. Then one day,
just before Christmas, I came back from a day out to find the netting and
string vanished, the pegs cast aside, and every last single tulip bulb eaten. So
I really do give up. I can’t stand the disappointment any more.
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