I phoned in my seed order today. I tried to be conservative; I really did, but I was still shocked at the total tally: nearly one hundred dollars--of just seeds! My mother tells stories of the despair my grandfather would be in at the time he placed his seed order for the family farm, which usually was in March. Seed poor, that described the lot of most farm families in early spring.

But seeds are so much more expensive than they were last time I placed a major order in the early 1990s. And there's so many more expenditures that must be made. First, we need lumber for the compost bin and the cold frame; also plexiglas for the latter. Then there's all the materials for the electric fence, which will probably prove to be the most outrageous of our garden expenses. To help us build the best fence, I borrowed from the library today a book entitled Backyard Battle Plan: The Ultimate Guide to Controlling Wildlife Damage in Your Garden by Cooper Rutledge. The first Saturday in February, we had dinner with our neighbors on both sides of us. Everyone told all sorts of stories about the lives of the previous owners of our home. "Did they tell you about the enormous woodchuck who lives under the swimming pool?" Ed asked me. At that moment, my heart dropped like a lead anchor thrown overboard in the dead of night. As my Uncle Connie would express it, "I can't believe it! It's uncanny!" No matter where I've lived or where I've tried to have a garden, I've been extraordinarily and unreasonably cursed by woodchucks.

When I moved here, I asked everyone I knew about woodchucks. All look puzzled at the question. No, no woodchucks here, not in the Adirondacks. And I stupidly relaxed. I should've known. Why wouldn't they be here?

So, besides the woodchuck, I've got to worry about deer, raccoons (all because Ken insists that I grow corn in this garden), and woodchucks. I'm sure there'll be other critters who'll dine at my expense. It's a good thing I bought all those seeds.