I have been in an incandescent rage for 6 weeks. My allotment has been under attack by a mole. With barely a murmur I put up with bindweed, pigeons, two types of deer, horsetails, Siberian hamsters, pheasants, bean weevil, cabbage whites, rabbits, June frosts and drought. The line, however, was drawn with the mole who did more damage than the rest together. It obliterated the new asparagus bed, broke roots off the courgettes, and destroyed the dahlias. Everything I watered, it uprooted. Parsley, carrots and runner beans have perished.
To try to get rid of the beast I have stuck bottles in the ground, then attached chunks of metal to twine so they would strike each other. I have jumped up and down on the runs. Mothballs in them do not work, nor do children's windmills, or battery operated sonic boomers. I bought an ancient mole trap in Welshpool, which at first he smelt and simply by-passed. I soaked cloths in the last of the creosote (which those nice people in Brussels have banned), and then switched to a supply of Jeyes Fluid, which I subsequently learn is also not allowed. In desperation I even poured "Charlie" perfume down the run. Nothing, nix, nil. The burrowing machine just kept going, sweet smelling, perpetual motion!
Relief has come through Molecolm Sutcliffe, an expert in such matters, if ever I met one. He recommended vast quantities of water down fresh molehills. A first small step to success; moles quite clearly did not like taking baths. With a little improvement and elaboration I have today got him. To those I have bored throughout June, apologies. However, the end was cunning and I need to share. Set the trap in a new mole hill, water the run either side with fresh water. Flood the rest as per Molecolm, but with 1,000 parts water to one of "Charlie" perfume. Stand back and wait!
Finally to a culinary bit. You may have seen a London restaurant has been serving grey squirrel dishes. Well, I planned along similar lines- molestroni soup, moles mariniere followed by mole in the hole, then profitemoles, washed down with a glass of moled wine. You get the idea, some of you were even working on other dishes. For that thank you, but somewhat to my surprise my mole has really been eaten. ćIt was an act of environmentally friendly recycling! My capture of mole had been watched from on high. From trap, to compost heap, to Red Kite took just 10 minutes. Don't go away Mr. Kite, I am still under attack. The moles have rushed reinforcements to my allotment. I fear they have moletiplied.
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