grapes of wrath

Last winter, a horticultural expert had a look at my tangled mess of a grape vine, and pruned it back to a shadow of its former self.  I was afraid it would be set back, but the grape vine responded by putting out more growth and more grapes than ever before.  Now they are slowly ripening, and I was looking forward to enjoying a delicious harvest of sweet, intensely flavoured grapes in October.

Two days ago, I went out to the back yard to shuck the last dozen cobs of corn I'll get this year, when I looked up in a nearby tree and saw two adorable half-grown racoons.  They looked cute, with their masked faces and fuzzy tails, so I broke a cob in half and left it for them.  

Big mistake.  The next morning, the beautiful ripening grapes climbing up my deck looked like this.  They are not even ripe yet - they need another month.  Last evening, I stepped out on the deck and there the little critters were again, hidden in the leaves.  I yelled at them, and they took off.  

I decided to grab a big ball of black netting to cover the grapes.  By then it was dark.  When I started the painstaking job of wrestling with the netting and tying it to the grapes, I heard a rustling - there they were again - back in the vines, filling their faces.  Then I got mad, grabbed a broom, and screamed at them loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear.  

I also tied netting across the deck steps and around the outside, hoping that will keep them at bay.

There seems to be no more damage this morning - whether it's the fear of getting caught up in the netting or the screams of a crazy lady with a broom, it appears they went looking for an easier meal somewhere else.