Back in January, I imagined a peaceful coexistence with the gophers. After all, they were here at Little Piney first, they were cute in a goofy, near-sighted way, and Carl (the previous owner) told me you really couldn’t win, anyway. Now it’s April, and the little tunnelers have run amok. Hills of dirt cover grass and wildflowers. Mounds and valleys create treacherous footing in the hay field. Gopher tunnels are collapsing under the driveway making holes and bumps. Little Piney sits atop an underground highway system in a gopher metropolis.
Enemy #2, the fire ants, seem to follow the trail of the gophers making it difficult to distinguish between gopher and ant mound. If we think it’s a gopher mound we kick it to be sure. Sometimes fire ants pour out of the most gopher-looking mounds. Fire ants–what survivors they are! Everyday new mounds of these vicious tiny swarmers pop up near the mounds I’ve already treated. Everyday the risk seems greater of a total takeover of the fields. I buy Amdro every week.
The most painful invader of the moment, however, is definitely the poison ivy. Three weeks after I brushed against a vine on a tree where I planned to strap a game camera, the red bumps and streaks continue to itch and spread. Even after a poison ivy vine is dead, the oil can transfer to skin for three years. If it’s burned, it can be inhaled and cause a serious reaction. Best to kill them as they pop up tender and green and almost unnoticeable–sneaky purveyors of poison and misery!
So with a sense of urgency and the killer instinct of a mama bear, tomorrow I launch a triple offensive. I’ll load my wagon with a gopher probe, Amdro, and Round-up and search for the offenders. I’ll find the gopher dens and begin their destruction. I’ll shake out another whole bottle of Amdro on ant mountains. I’ll don my disposable hazmat suit, shoe covers and gloves from Home Depot and spray the new tender poison ivy plants as well as the big vine on the tree and figure out later what to do with the dead ones.