Lessons Through Gardening

Living in a home on a large piece of land is an amazing blessing for a gardener. The ability to grow your own fruits and vegetables, put them up in quart jars that line the pantry shelves to enjoy for months to come is a great payout. Rows of lovingly cultivated corn, beans, zucchini, cabbage, cucumbers, beets, tomatoes, carrots - - - WAIT! Where are the carrots?!

When my children were young, two rows of full grown carrots disappeared one summer. Each of my four angels were questioned rigorously about the missing veggies. Oh, not ALL of the carrot was missing. Each carrot top lay neatly by the hole it was originally nestled in. Teeth marks were a dead give-away that at least one of my four rascals was lying. It certainly wasn't a neighbor since the closest neighbor was a mile down the road. Yet each day the rows grew smaller. The kids swore, solemnly, through tears or with disgust that they "really didn't do it mom!" Not being an idiot, I punished all four of them. Grounded. Banned to their rooms for two days without a chance to step outside. Pure torture for a small kid on summer break!

On the second day of "lock-down" I grabbed my gardening gloves and my knee rest and headed for the garden. The garden covered a quarter of an acre, carefully laid out on a gentle slope allowing for excellent run-off during rainstorms. At the bottom of the slope, a wire fence covered with vines bearing luffa gourds separated the property from a swampy pond. The pond was a great place to explore! Frogs! Lily-pads! Water-skippers! Our family had enormous amounts of fun sloshing around in that pond. What else did the pond serve as home to? Nutrias.

Now, nutrias are not native to the Northwest. They are in fact a small carnivore rodent originating from South America. They were brought to Oregon in the early 1900's by people in the fur harvesting business. When the fur business collapsed, nutrias lost their nice farm homes and had to take up residence in other areas, preferably near water such as the pond near my home.

As I reached the top of the slope that afternoon, my eyes were drawn to the carrot rows by the movement of two small figures. They were plucking carrots out of the ground, happily munching away, laying the tops down and moving on up the row. Nutrias.

My heart sank when I thought back on my stern treatment of my angels. I went back into the house, called to the kids and apologized profusely. I quietly walked them to the top of the garden so they could spy the perpetrators. The girls were thrilled, clapping their hands and giggling at the sight. My youngest son, however, folded his arms and stalked off with a well deserved "I told you so!" During the commotion, the nutrias dropped their lunch and headed back through a hole in the luffa fence to their pond.

Soon our fence was mended and the critters had no way to enter the garden. The crop was saved! The carrots were somewhat depleted, but who cared? From then on I learned to trust my children more when questioning them. As recompense the kids received a small area of their own in the garden to eat from whenever they desired. Nutrias not welcome!