Laura Stone (stoney321) wrote,
Laura Stone

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You know, I really deserve the gardening equivalent to the Congressional Medal of Honor

Or a purple heart, or silver star or SOMETHING.

When a caterpillar is so big that it requires TWO HANDS to pry it off your plant, friends, that caterpillar is simply too big to live. And when the meter reader hombre who looks like he eats sheet metal in his spare time SQUEALS LIKE A GIRL and flaps his hands when you accidentally fling said caterpillar towards him and an awaiting bird, said caterpillar is too big to live. The length of a deck of cards, thicker than my thumb. Horrible stinger on its butt. (Tomato horn worm.)

Six today, five yesterday, and I'm just about to nuke my whole garden. I had to cut a grasshopper in half in a parry move with my clippers, a grasshopper hell bent for leather on flapping its hideous wings in my face, forcing me to cut off my face meat due to contamination.

Why am I a gardener? Why do I make a habitat for all creatures? I've had rats in there (okay, field mice, but when they're dead and gutted from a hungry owl, it becomes something gross) snakes (I'm okay with snakes) ginormous grasshoppers, KILLER SPIDERS, and caterpillars that are more like baby anacondas. If my neighbors would stop setting out friggin' bird feeders, I'd have more hungry beasts doing the work for me. (I am grateful to my faithful family of mockingbirds that see me out in the garden and line the fence, waiting for me to fling something towards them.)

I just want flowers and veggies, is that too much to ask? I stood in the driveway, arms bent in to my sides, hoping up and down on my feet, slapping at my arms and torso because I thought one of them got on my shirt. Good morning, neighborhood!

Disclaimer: I only got rid of the ones on my actual tomatoes, because I would rather eat the tomatoes than those buggers. I left the ones on other plants, because they turn into this, which is really beautiful. The caterpillar is all muscled and grody to the MAX. Blech.

Disclaimer 2: I am a former Master Gardener, so I *must* garden. It's like asking me to stop smoking hash. Or murdering hobos. It's in my BLOOD. Ahaha. Heh. One portion of this second disclaimer is true, but which??
Tags: gardening, oh em gee, waaaah
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