Battalions of grasshoppers and other smug bugs are marching across my gardens, consuming pretty much everything standing still.
Lucky for me, the cats move quick. Bad Dog is probably too big to become dinner.
I don't understand why these pests gobble the greenery and leave the tomaters behind. That's the best part!
When I first moved into this house, it was kind of like living in the country.
Now I have highly productive neighbors who live very close, though that hasn't messed with my early morning ritual of strolling the gardens, in my jammies, nibbling on this and that.
(May I just say? As a neighbor, you should NOT feel morally obligated to call out a happy good morning to me when you're in your business suit and I'm in my bathrobe. Because that makes me think I should go get a job and I can do without that guilt trip, thank you very much.)
So, I'm standing out there, munching on a Mr. Stripey heirloom tomato. Glaring at my neighbors, grumpy about the bugs... When I looked down and noticed that I'd eaten almost everything I'd planned to toss into the scrambled eggs.
And, that's when it dawned on me. The biggest pest messing with my tomato production is probably me!