The Death Of The Love Peppers

When we moved to this house from our old house, the differences were numerous. Instead of convicts running through our backyard (great story- I'll tell it some time, it involved one bad guy, several police officers, an entire neighborhood in my driveway, and my naked, mud covered little sister), we now have a plethora of wildlife including turkeys and bats. Instead of cars backfiring and the sweet opera of spousal abuse filling the silence, come midnight, the only sounds around here are the crickets.

And as much as I sometimes miss the used condoms littering the sides of the road, it's the deer who share our new backyard that have always been my favorite part of living in this house. I might even love them more than the shiny oak floors in the living room.

My parents, of course, hate the deer.

My father has been known to throw rocks at the deer. I've been known to dash through the yard yelling "Run! Run!" before they can get hit by the rocks.

My mother has been known to spray deer deterring concoctions around the edge of the property. I've been known to bring home a salt-licks and place them in the backyard so the deer feel compelled to stop by more frequently.

You might even call me a deer advocate.

Until today.

Because when I went outside to check on our little garden today this is what I found:

Six hot pepper plants is what was there yesterday. Secretly calling them our "love peppers", I've spent months planting, watering, transplanting, and singing to them, not because I love spicy foods and want to make homemade hot sauce but because Jimmy does and I love him. And after the breakup that almost ended the world, I put a lot of hope in these little peppers, hope that they'd grow and flourish and that our relationship would follow suit. Somewhere in all the craziness of my mind, these peppers began to represent our relationship. And now they're dead. Do you have any idea what that means for our relationship?! Do you?!

And even though the sensible part of me knows we're not going to break up again just because the peppers died, if we do, whether it be today or twenty-five years from now, I'm totally going to blame it on those stupid deer.