On not Sharing Rioja with Slugs...

April showers. Even in May. It's what we expect at this time of year.
As I climbed a stepladder yesterday, armed with a Bug gun, between showers of every description, snow, sleet and rain, believing, in the ensuant brilliant sunshine, that each had been the last,   I realised that here was a coming of age.
It all started two years ago when Dearest and I found ourselves admiring rose bushes. I remarked, that it was funny how we had never really gone for roses in our small and imperfectly formed garden because they were "old people's flower of choice". However, here we were, seriously considering them for our garden. We looked at each other, shrugged and smiled, and went ahead.
Two roses (Shropshire Lad, if this detail makes your secateurs twitch) we have planted either side of a ground floor window. The more mature one is roaring high towards the horizontal wires above, (look, I admit we employed a lovely Man who Can..) but is absolutely writhing with aphids.
We are most certainly going to have an obesity problem amongst aphids in the South of England. It might be a bit parky right now, but obviously not cold enough to slow down the proliferation of leaf-chomping insects.
Well, I have dealt them my opening sally and will keep a careful eye on the results of my labours in the coming weeks. I will also be keeping an eye on the ground.
The slug is not the gardeners' friend. Generally, speaking, you know what they like and you can take steps to deal with them. I don't generally have drunk and disorderly slugs in my garden. Some people like to put a drop of beer in a jam jar, as a more humane way of getting rid of them.  But 'til now the blue pellet has been my weapon of choice..
But have you heard the latest? The Spanish slug is on its way.. Arion vulgaris (No, that's its name.)
It is bigger and uglier and chompier than our indigenous ones, and it likes everything except fuchsia. And they are coming for my roses. Listen up! Yours too...
So I won't be putting a couple inches of Vino tinto in a jam jar to lull them into a false sense of homecoming, I am putting in my order right now for microscopic worms (Phasmarhabdtis hermasphodita). Apparently, these  are the natural predators of slugs. Then as Arnie would say, "Hasta la vista, Baby!"
That should  quell the sound of castanets on a summer's evening.
                                             

NO SLUGS HERE