October 16, 2003
There's one animal I can't tolerate, a groundhog. The winter we moved into Elmbrae I started broccoli and Brussels sprouts in the window. That spring I dug a garden, planted the seedlings and sowed beans and carrots along with other vegetables. No sooner did a row of hopeful cotyledons emerge than the groundhog mowed them down. All my hours of hard work, the cherished dreams of homegrown feasts, vanished in a few greedy feedings. It made me want to erect an electric fence, not the kind that gives a repellant zap, but one that causes a slow, painful, convulsing death.