Friday, February 3, 2012

This Stupid Pineapple Is

Briane Pagel is conducting a Stupid Pineapple blogfest at Thinking The Lions. A Force drew me to the site and entrapped me in its clutches. Pray for me.

This Stupid Pineapple is...a mental picture.

I like shed antlers. The hubby brings them to me from the field and I have a dozen plus of these things around the house. He even cut off the head of a 4-pointer that someone had shot and didn't retrieve last winter. I hung it in a tree hoping it would, uh, 'melt'.

It is still there. Un-melted.

One hot summer day, the hubby found a 10-point road kill. For a guy who can't watch House due to the fake blood, the next thing he did was incredible. He cut off the velvet antlers and the hide holding them together. URP. He said he had to leave the area once when the, ahem, odor got to him. He brought them home and stuck them in a the front yard.
Not a wise choice.

But, forget about that for now.

I hate moles but, lucky me, they like my yard.

I’ve tried everything to kill them and found that every remedy works. Once. After killing a mole, the method never works again.

Annihilation techniques include traps, spade (very cathartic), Mole Peanuts, Tom Cat poison, drowning (yes, I did).

And Juicy Fruit gum. That day, I poked holes into the runs and shoved the gum into the tunnels.

Well, how do you know if it works? If they eat it, they will die underground. Right? You won't know if they have died, right?

Now, picture obsession. Not the perfume. But a pissed off, wild woman fed up with the moles. I am walking around the yard, head down looking at the mounded dirt.

And I smell something. Something really, REALLY foul, like something is dead. I think, "Oh, Cool. I've killed one of those son of a guns and it is rotting underground.”

And I begin looking for it, thinking maybe that our dog had dug it up.

Picture this: I am looking down, searching the ground, walking in circles trying to find the dead mole.

The hubby is across the drive, working on some machinery, looking at me, puzzled, but not saying anything.

"Hey,” I said. “I think I got a mole using the Juicy Fruit gum.”

He hesitated. “Look up. Not down.”

I look up.

Two inches from my face is this rotting, maggot-infested hunk of deer antlers.

After my recovery, the hubby said, "I wondered what you were doing!"


  1. Wow. Now that's how you tell a story. Good stuff.

  2. Replies
    1. uh. well.
      true story.

      But believe me, I've done worse.

  3. BAAAAHAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't breathe! You are even crazier than I am with your rotting dear heads hanging in trees and obsessive mole killing tactics and I love it! Someone told me to look up once too - to see the tree buds in the spring. You are obviously the evil twin. Yin and Yang and such... ;D

  4. Still laughing...This brought back the memory of how my dad used to take care of gophers on our property in northern MI. He'd locate their connecting tunnels, then have me flush a 5 gal bucket of water down one hole while he stood ready with his shotgun at the other hole. You know how this story ends, right? My daddy was very successful in his gopher assassinations. Daddy also loved to hunt and venison was our main food source, so, while there weren't any decomposing deer antlers in our trees (LMAOOOO!), we did have deer hanging in the garage during successful hunting seasons. I helped him butcher them himself one year when he decided he wasn't going to pay that "damn hack butcher uptown" to do it. It was a bloody undertaking but it certainly didn't turn me off to eating venison. Meat of the gods, baby. ;)

    Thank you for the laughs. I needed them after the past couple weeks. :)

  5. This story is classic. Love it, even if it's gross. hehehe. poor widdle moles!!!

    Pretty sure I would have been compelled to join this blogfest if I'd known about it in time. hahaha


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