Opening Letters

Moles Make a Mountain of East Hill

those peksy burrowers keep digging holes in my garden

Jodie Arnold, illustrated by Ryan Carpentier |

Moles have become the bane of my existence. And no, I’m not referring to those which litter various parts of my body and made Marilyn Monroe super sexy. I speak of the kind that digs rotten holes all over my yard.

My husband and I just moved into our first home. Yes, I know this is exciting. And yes, it’s in the East Hill, which apparently means we’re young and upcoming and voting for Obama (which we are).

Anyway, we couldn’t figure out how exactly it was that we got this fantastic big house with ahuge yard for such a great price. The housing market helps, but really. It’s a great house now that we’ve painted over the “Green Bay Packer room” and gotten rid of the three layers of linoleum in the dining room.

Then my husband announces to me a few weeks ago that we have a problem with moles. My only previous experience with pesky yard creatures of any kind comes from the movie Caddyshack. And that was a gopher; so yeah, I have none. I didn’t even know what they looked like until I did a Google search.

Now I’m thinking, “Oh my god! These ugly rodents are living in the yard that’s supposed to be designated as my gardening area?!”

I mentioned this to my stylist, who also happens to live in the East Hill (also an Obama voter). She told me she and her husband also had moles when they first moved into their home. I have no idea what measures were taken to get rid of them, but she assures me they no longer have a problem.


She then mentions that they have other friends, also East Hillers, who had the same problem when they first moved into their home. This tells me something. These moles aren’t being taken care of permanently. They’re simply moving on to the next empty home in the East Hill area to make someone else’s life miserable. My husband and I were just the next on the list.

My husband and I (mostly my husband, as mole proofing the yard serves as an excellent diversion from doing things like…housework) have taken extreme measures to get rid of these awful creatures. He’s consulted websites telling visitors to “Know Thine Enemy” and to “Not Underestimate the Mole.” These sites give lengthy descriptions on the habits of moles in an effort to help you get inside their “brittle skulls” so you can better understand why it is they feel the need to destroy your yard while you’re at work.

My husband actually shaved his head and then proceeded to put the clippings into the mole holes per the direction of one of these websites. There are a few explanations for why this didn’t work; either it’s because my husband has very little hair in the first place so it wasn’t enough to do anything or it’s because these websites just want to make you do ridiculous and desperate things for their own amusement. We have put weird sonar boxes in the yard that are somehow supposed to send “get out of yard” vibes to the moles. I have seen jars in the garage with things like “Mole Killer” written on them, but I’m sure this will do nothing for our unattractive neighbors.

What I really need is for someone else on Margaret Street to move. I’d prefer this happens before next May, as I had hopes for things like tomatoes and cucumbers taking the place of the large holes I keep falling into.

Therefore, if you’re thinking of moving out, please do so now. And if you’re thinking of moving into the East Hill, please disregard this article and welcome to the neighborhood! I’ll give you some tomatoes next year for your troubles.