I’ve been keeping a close eye on the sweetcorn, watching as the tops started to turn brown and anticipating that first, buttery, barbecued corn on the cob. And then last night the badgers crossed the meadow, worked their way through the stock beds, stepped delicately over the courgettes and carrots, ignored the beans and peas and gorged themselves on our almost ready sweetcorn. They’ve even nibbled neatly around the cores and left them strewn across the veg plot.

And to think we’ve been tiptoeing around the woods so as to leave the sweet little b*****s to reproduce in peace….

UPDATE: In keeping with my ‘better to light a candle than complain about the dark’ ideology, and since we happened to have a handy roll of chicken wire, I thought we might just have a go at keeping the not-so-little pests out. I suspected a gap in the wire fence between the stock beds and the meadow and sure enough there was a small, neatly worn track on both sides of the approach. But no human has been near the gap for a year and nature has had its wicked way. It should have been a 10 minute job (which I promised would slip effortlessly between Dave’s spatchcock chicken going in the oven and dinner). I slightly underestimated. We strimmed 20 feet of 6ft high nettles and hacked out mounds of blackberry-laden brambles to get to the gap in the first place. But once I’ve started a job…. Anyway it’s a HeathRobinson-esque construction comprising an old door, some seeping railway sleepers and two layers of chicken wire. I know I’m going to regret this but if the pesky badgers can be bothered to get in now, then they deserve their sweetcorn supper. And Dave’s chicken was only a little bit overcooked.

August 19, 2009  
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