Our fattest sweet corn cobs looked as though they'd been exploded by little bombs, each one ripped apart and then munched insitu. At the base of the plants were the tell-tale signs of a large mammal stomping around. The only possible culprit is our friendly badger who cases the joint (our garden) every night looking to see which crops are ready for him.
We picked all the remaining cobs to save them from the destructive forces of the badger - the worry is that carrots are next on his menu. We may have to resort to peanut bribery to keep his attentions away from other tasty crops. If only he had a taste for tomatoes or perhaps courgettes - we have these to spare.
We picked all the remaining cobs to save them from the destructive forces of the badger - the worry is that carrots are next on his menu. We may have to resort to peanut bribery to keep his attentions away from other tasty crops. If only he had a taste for tomatoes or perhaps courgettes - we have these to spare.
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