Monday, July 27, 2009

I'm a victim. Really

They've driven me to dream of mass murder.

I don't mind prying a tomato worm or two off my plants and stomping them into bug heaven. Okay, don't stomp because they're really juicy. But the grasshoppers are making me a little crazy.

Crazy enough to load up with Sevin dust and start sprinkling plants that haven't seen any herbicides or insecticides all season. You can walk across the lawn and stir up clouds of hoppers like puffs of dust. Walk near the wrong plant, and you can hear them fleeing, thumping off other plants or walls.

And speaking of dust, I had been hoping that if it was going to be in the 100s and dry, maybe it should stay that way long enough to drive them off to Kansas or somewhere. But no, it starts raining. That makes them happy to stay and washes off the Sevin.

I'm no organic zealot, but I try. I used insecticidal soap until my pump-pressing finger wanted to fall off.

And there's some plants that they find less than tasty, like salvia, coreopsis, Russian Sage, hyssop, rosemary and Mexican marigolds. But somebody has to save the pitiful zinnias, and one butterfly bush (another one is untouched in the same yard).

I would have chosen more hopper resistant plants, but these are not normal times.

The ultimate insult, or maybe payback, was the daddy grasshopper that landed on my glasses this weekend. It was massive and just grabbed hold of one lens like it was going to throw me to the ground or something.

Maybe this is all karma. I admit I bought compost this year instead of making it. And remember, my plants are sequestering carbon for the good of the globe. I'll turn my life around. Just free me from this plague.

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