A humorous look at bodily ills and daily woes, and tips from someone who has suffered everything from arthritis to athlete's foot.
Saturday, 10 May 2008
Before I even planted my violas, while they were still in their polystyrene tray, the slugs had found them. I picked at least a dozen vile, slimy bodies off before I planted them in pots yesteday. Then we had a thunderstorm, which resulted in a mad slug orgy. There were yellow ones, black, grey, you name it, all slithering across the lawn towards my flowerpots. I rushed out and emptied half a drum of salt all round the pots, but a few still made it through, though I rejoiced in the sight of several blobs of slime on the salty edges of the pods.
I don't want to use slug pellets that might poison the cat and the birds, so I have sent for some copper tape. You wind it round the pots and it reacts with the slug slime and gives them a nasty electric shock. Mind you, these slugs have got muscles. They will probably think I've provided a thrilling sex aid and will multiply like mad. I will wake up one morning, open the curtain and see a sea of rippling, slithering slime in place of a lawn. I feel a science fiction story coming on. The Slime Machine. 2008, A Slug Odyssey. Snailien. Gastro pubs will become gastropod pubs and serve raviola and salad.
I shall let you know if the copper tape works. That's if there are any violas left by the time it arrives.