Thursday, June 10, 2010

If you can't beat them...

It's oft said that if you can't beat them, join them. That's always sounded like loser talk to me, and besides - I am much more stubborn that your average loser. But for the first time in my life, I found a middle ground where I could comfortably test the old adage without having to throw up the white flag and somehow transform myself into a slime-covered mollusc.

So I went and got a beer.

Over the last week a steady number of slugs have been drinking themselves into oblivion, but unfortunately it would seem that problem drinking isn't as much of a problem as the newspapers have been making out, after all. Because when I awoke yesterday morning to find half of my beans and all of my broccoli missing again, I needed something to drown my sorrows. And yes, that only loosely prescribes to today's subject-under-the-microscope - but just so you can be sure, it hasn't yet gotten to the stage where I need to drown myself. And certainly not in VB.

So last night, having found my way to 11pm without the need of a bucket, I prepared for the drastic action you can only find floating in the dregs of a third or fourth bottle of beer. There was no ceremony - and only partially because I'm too practical for that, even after a couple. Any sane person who may have otherwise been around to witness the event was busy avoiding hypothermia underneath several blankets and a duvet. With only a torch, beer jacket and an empty jar of cocktail onions I stepped forward into the night to receive my cold slap of winter.

The unwanted southerly wind invading my yard had an immediate sobering effect that rendered the beer jacket totally useless. This would have to happen quickly, which, considering I was still wearing that useless beer jacket, wouldn't be easy. Up in the plot, I found a large dispersed collection of slugs traveling in completely random vectors with no common goal or direction. It vaguely reminded me of the last time I found myself paying attention to politics. Under the torch-light I hastily scooped all of them up and into the jar - which took only marginally longer than the time it did to run back into the house and close the door.

It left me wondering if it was all worth it for a patch of leafless broccoli stalks. But dammit! They were my leafless broccoli stalks I was defending. And I'm foolishly hoping that they've got at least one more attempt at foliage left in them. But I think I can say joining them only achieved a short-term result that won't be repeated often at this time of year. At least not if I get my act together, avoid alcoholism and order some more damn beer traps.

No comments:

Post a Comment