22 May 2006

The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Slugs

(with absolutely no apologies whatsoever to John Knox for stealing the title of his misogynistic diatribe and improving it)

It’s great weather for slugs. Or so I gather from the beans at the allotment that have been reduced to pitiful-looking bare stems. I have back-up beans so all is not lost, but I’m gutted all the same.

The guys down the plot think I’m crazy. “You’re going to have to use slug pellets” they tell me. But I will not countenance it, even though I know that my decision is going to get me into trouble of the ‘I don’t seem to have any plants left’ variety. And so I get my heart broken again and again.

But what do I expect? That they will learn to share? That my right-on approach will somehow earn the respect of every bit of wildlife around me? That the resident slug population of Warstock lane will not consider my plot a safe haven with a Michelin starred gastropod restaurant attached even though I am the only person on the site not using bloody chemicals?

I am trying my best here. We’ve been working so hard down the plot this year and have put in such a lot of time. But the little blighters (I’m trying to keep it polite here, but it’s difficult) do not play fair. I know, I know. It’s a slug eat seedling world. I ought to toughen up and fight back. I need to get organised with the beer and bran traps, maybe a watering of weak coffee. Show ‘em who’s boss.

Though I think that as far as the slugs are concerned I’m more David Brent than Elizabeth I.

Filed under: Wildlife — Clare @ 5:16 pm