Oh yeah. It's that time of year again. Time for Operation Black Thumb! Right now, my kitchen is full of tiny, struggling seedlings, all of whom look at me and scream, "Why'd you bring us into this world, you sadist?!"

Actually, it's not quite that bad. I'd say about 3/4ths of the seeds I started last month have come up, and considering that I'm gardening with small children, I don't think that's too bad. And I did plant a ton of seeds this year, in hopes that I'd have enough hardy seedlings come April 15th, which is the frost-free date around here. I may even have more than enough, in which case I've promised the extras to Mary and my neighbors (and all these people are so much better gardeners than I am).

The kids are having fun watching the new seedlings come up, and they have promised me that they will help me grow lots of tomatoes and beans and herbs, etc. Meanwhile, my friend Patty, who is the best gardener I know, has promised to help me put together a square foot garden for next year. We'll probably start putting together the boxes in the fall, about the time I decide I've had enough of my straggling side garden and I'm ready to rip the whole thing out.

I'll post pictures of seedlings next week, hopefully, so you can see how ambitious I am for this year's container garden. But please promise not to bring me before a tribunal for crimes against nature, okay?

Seriously, I have issues with squirrels.

Earlier this year I took up backyard bird watching as a sort of informal hobby. I have a couple of birding books, a pair of binoculars that are just strong enough to let me peek in the neighbors' windows see what's going on in my own backyard and of course, a bird feeder loaded with black sunflower seed.

Plus three big fat honkin' squirrels.

The original big fat honkin' squirrel is a regular in our yard and was dubbed Lardo the Big-Butt squirrel because he liked to gorge himself pretty regularly at our feeder. A few months ago, he was joined by two friends, one of whom the kids have taken to calling Buffalo Butt, and the other of whom has so far remained nameless beyond me occasionally calling him "YOU *@#!ING SQUIRREL!" All three of these rotund little beasties seem to think I'm putting out bird feed for them and not the birds. WRONG!

In my ongoing campaign against the squirrels, I've tried a lot of different tactics. At first, I bought a baffle for the feeder pole, because that's how the squirrels were getting into the feeder. They'd just shimmy up the pole, reach over to the feeder and dump a ton of seeds on the ground, emptying the whole damn thing within a couple of hours of me filling it. The pole baffle worked for a few months.

Then the little menaces discovered they could bypass the pole entirely by climbing up a nearby tree instead and jumping over to the arm the feeder hangs from. Due to the layout of the yard, there really isn't any place to put the feeder that wouldn't be close to a tree, so I couldn't simply move it to defeat the squirrels. Instead, I tried making additional homemade baffles to put on the feeder arm - toilet paper tubes, which I had hoped would roll the moment a squirrel stepped on them and toss the critters off; a 2 liter soda bottle with the bottom cut off, slid over the cord the feeder hangs by, which I had hoped would prevent the squirrels from climbing down the cord to get to the feeder; an inverted milk jug, again with the bottom cut off, that I hoped would trap the squirrels inside when they came down the cord. None of it worked.

It got to the point where I'd stand at my dining room window, watching the feeder for invading squirrels, then beat on the glass and shout obscenities to scare the bloody things away. But eventually the squirrels learned to ignore even that.

There was no doubt about it. I was losing the war. But then a couple of weeks ago, I found a new squirrel-proof feeder. It's a long, skinny, plexiglass-glass box encased in a wire frame. The plexiglass-glass box has little windows cut into it so the birds can get at the food, and the wire frame has perches on it for the birds to sit on while they eat. Oh, and the frame has these lovely decorative metal leaves on it, one just above each window. And the wire frame hangs on the box by a pair of springs...

Basically, what happens is this. The birds can sit on the perches and eat, but if Lardo and Co. clamber on, their big fat squirrelly behinds make the wire frame slide down so that the metal leaves cover the windows, effectively shutting them out of the feeder. I've seen this in action five times now, and so far it works like a charm. Lardo, Buffalo Butt and That *@#!ing Squirrel spend several minutes hanging on the wire frame trying to figure out how to get to the food, only to give up when they realize the birdie breakfast bar is closed to them.

So for now, I'm winning The War Against The Squirrels. To ensure there are no hard feelings, I've started putting out ears of dried corn in a handy little squirrel feeder. I don't mind feeding the squirrels, you see. I just don't want them in my bird feeder scaring off all the birds.

Of course now we've got some ducks that keep wandering through the backyard and raiding the squirrel feeder every time I turn around. I haven't found a way to keep them out yet, but honestly, I don't really care. Lardo and Company can fend for themselves. I'm sure they'll figure out how to repel these new invaders.