While gardening the other day, I noticed that every time I pulled a weed from my rose garden, a patch of dirt would jump.
The answer, of course, was that a mole had set up camp amongst my Tamora and Heritage roses, and I was making too much noise in its hallways. I was interested in getting a glimpse of the little rodent, so I moved in closer. All of the sudden, I remembered that this was how the lone woman in horror movies ended up dead. She’d investigate, only to be pulled underground by the tentacle of some other-worldly creature that came to earth to hunt humans.
So, I backed away.
When I related this tale to a friend, she asked me if I stabbed the mole with a pitchfork. That’s when it hit me – why was my first instinct to investigate and my second to run for fear of alien moles? Eliminating the little aerator might be practical, but for me, I guess the movie fan part of me took over.
ET Moles Amongst the Roses – sounds like a movie to me.