In Slug Heaven

  If you're wondering where this blog has been, this blog has been squelching through the muddy swamp that was once the garden, trying to decide which crisis to tackle first. Not only is everything drenched but the plants (along with the weeds) have shot up like extras in some monster film. I swear the growth rate is twice what is was last year. Not to mention the fact that every slug in the county has beaten a path to the flowers and the casualty toll is spectacular. Lilies, dahlias, newly-planted annuals. All munched down to the quick. I can just hear the brutes, "C'mon fellas, get busy! Party time at Lawrence Acres!"   I tried the slug traps - the beer can variety. No good. Someone came around and pulled up and upended all of them. Probably an alcoholic woodchuck.  The slug pellets don't work unless the wetness conditions are exactly right. "LIGHT watering only!" warn the instructions. Too bad that the slugs come out in their millions after heavy watering, of which we've had days and days.
   We did try to engage someone to come and look after things while we were away, at least to cut the grass. Trouble is, this is modern America. Gone are the days when people actually wanted to earn a bob or two. The first few people we tried either never got back to us, got back to us, took one look at the garden and fled, or promised faithfully they'd come back and never did. Some had novel excuses ("Oops! forgot to put you guys on my schedule!") Some were honest and said they just had "too much going on". I'm not surprised. It's the same with the gents who were supposed to fix the windows, do the decorating, repair the chimney... If you're one of the few people who actually want to do some work around here, you can virtually name your price. A fortune awaits. Come on chaps, this is supposed to be the land of opportunity!