June 30, 2011


One of the few things the people I bought my house from blessed us with is a strawberry patch. Though not huge, it provides us with enough of the seedy little nibbles for about a month or so every year. We don't get enough to do anything like canning or jamming (metal kick), but I do end up eating more waffles and french toast this time of year.

The trouble is, something else likes my strawberries. I'll frequently wander out to the patch in my manties in the morning (neighbors be damned), clutching a cup of joe (double damned), to get a handful of strawberries for my breakfast. I end up tossing a fair number of berries because they are half devoured. I never knew what was assaulting my treats until yesterday. Sow bugs. Roly Polys. Potato bugs. These multi-legged throwbacks to the paleolithic period are burrowing into the fruit of my garden's loins. Them and their blobulous little sluggy buddies.

Bastards. I think Smarty Pants, lover of all things armored and segmented, said it best after inspecting the nibbly damage they had caused. " Darn roly polys. I just don't think I can ever forgive them."

Damn straight, kid. So what's a guy to do when his labor of love is getting overrun by living ooze and tiny armadillos? Not sure. I hate insect sprays on the garden because I like to just pick and eat. Napalm is out. And it isn't like I despise all bugs. Just the ones that eat my fruits and veggies.

Or I could just coexist. (Insert sudden thought of the Coexist bumper sticker spelled out with fruit, bugs and the "O" as a no sign with pesticide.) Ha. Funny shit. They don't do much damage I guess. Now if the little bastards start on my potatoes or carrots, that will be different. Or earwigs (hated, vile creatures they are) get into my corn again. I'm just going to keep that napalm option open...

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