A humorous look at bodily ills and daily woes, and tips from someone who has suffered everything from arthritis to athlete's foot.
Sunday, 30 June 2013
Come on, I bet you've done it, too. Slunk out under cover of darkness with a torch to light your way and illuminate those giveaway silver trails, betokening the fact that you have a Gastropoda munching away at your Rhodiola.
If you're brave, you'll pick up the thing with your bare hand, flinching only slightly as the glutinous mucus slimes your fingers. The less brave will don gloves. Having investigated and discovered that slug slime isn't actually poisonous,.I now go bareback to pick them up. Indeed, there's even something slightly kinky about palpating the squidgy body of a slug, or watching as a snail retracts its slippery 'foot' and regards you with beady, bulbous eyes from the tips of its tentacles as it nervously contemplates its imminent fate.
At last, with snail pail or slug trug in hand, it is time to contemplate the pesky molluscs' disposal. Some go in for the salt treatment, but that only leaves you with a bucketful of snot in the morning, guaranteeing that, as soon as your sleepy eye lights on it. your breakfast will be hurled even further than the slugs.
I happen to favour the sporting chance method. I look to left and to right, decide which neighbour I feel least kindly disposed towards, then, one by one, I pick each slug or snail up, pull back my arm and, with a bowler's swing, launch the thing on an arcing trajectory over the hedge. It then has a 50/50 chance of a soft landing or a shell-splitting concrete one. Any road up, the hedgehogs will dine well. However, I do live in fear of hearing feet crunching softly in gravel, then getting hit in the eye by a soggy slug hurled back by a next-door member of Slug-Slingers Anonymous doing their own 10 pm snail trail patrol.
As to where they hide in the daytime, I just pulled back a clump of petunias in my blue pot, and what did I see? Enjoy your flight, my friends! *demonic cackle*