The Upper Hand

As you know by now, slugs have become my latest obsession. (Or, rather, killing slugs has become my latest obsession.) I’m out in the garden at all hours of the day and night, picking slugs off my plants and drowning them in beer. I go out before bed. I go out first thing every morning. I’ve been out in the rain, in the cold, in the middle of the night, before dawn, in a lightning storm–you name it. There I go, into the garden, armed with a flashlight and a latex glove. I will stop at nothing very little to save my precious zucchini from the evil slugs.

When I close my eyes at night, I see slugs.

(Yeah, that’s not so fun.)

I have tried to enlist Jesse in my fight against the slugs, but for some reason he hasn’t taken to it the way I have. A sample conversation:

Me: I can’t stop thinking about slugs.

Jesse: You’re obsessed. It’s an illness.

Me: But do you love me anyway?

Jesse: Yes.

(pause)

Jesse: But it’s still an illness.

My mom has been less concerned, though she doesn’t share my enthusiasm for all things slug. In a series of emails, I told her about my war on slugs. She said, and I quote: “Slug picking, sounds exciting.” And then: “Everyone needs a new hobby, I guess.”

I see them everywhere, too, not just in my garden. Saturday, I was at a birthday party for S. and I was standing on the back porch, minding my own business, not at all in any way thinking about slugs. I looked down. There, on the concrete slab, what do I see? What do I see that no one else sees? What do I see, at my feet and mine alone?

Yes. A slug.

(I stepped on it. You’re welcome, Sharon.)

Okay, so I am a little obsessed. BUT. But. I believe I’m getting the upper hand. I think I’m making headway. Their numbers are shrinking. The last few times I’ve been in the garden, I’ve found fewer and fewer slugs on my zucchini. And, all the plants have flowers on them, uneaten by slugs. (Seems to be that my slugs are especially fond of the flowers.) I’m taking that as a good sign. A little ray of sweet, sweet hope.

I’m daring to believe that the tide is turning, that the wind is blowing in my favor, that maybe–yes, maybe–I might be winning the war on slugs.

Victory. I can almost smell it.

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4 Comments

  1. Mom
    Posted May 21, 2012 at 7:52 am | Permalink

    It is definitely not an illness, Jesse. That’s your food she’s saving. As always, I applaud your determination.

  2. sandy
    Posted May 21, 2012 at 5:49 pm | Permalink

    you need to enlist S and Z to help you pick off slugs. little kids love slugs. although, they may spend more time playing then picking…but it would make the process more fun.

    • Posted May 24, 2012 at 2:51 pm | Permalink

      Haha, now that would be hilarious to watch!

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