|Here she is, early in the season, before she became a jungle. Looks pretty peaceful, no?|
MY ORTO IS LETTING ME KNOW IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS THAT SHE IS NOT PLEASED WITH ME. AND SHE IS QUITE RIGHT. THE POOL MAN LIKES TO SAY THAT A SWIMMING POOL IS LIKE A BABY. SHE REQUIRES CONSTANT SURVEILLANCE. WELL DITTO FOR A VEGETABLE GARDEN.
Every time I have abandoned her, she has gotten back at me. Ordinarily a very devoted, even compulsive gardener with zero tolerance for weeds, I am full of rationalizations for my neglect. First it was a period of bad weather. Next a trip to visit family. Then trying to care for a husband with a pinched nerve.
But she is not interested in excuses. This is existentialism in action. Good intentions mean nothing. It's only what you do that counts. Today I am trying to make it up to her. We'll see how well that works.
INSECT CONTROL:LATEST ENEMY ON THE HIT LIST
I'm beginning to understand why they call them soldier bugs. I've spent much of the day killing legions of them, but just when I have the illusion that I am making a dent in their ranks, entire new phalanxes appear. When one considers the life cycle, I guess we each have our moment to feel strong and invincible.This is theirs.
The local dialect even has an expression for that: "E suo tempo." This is not the first time I have heard this philosophical comment whose implication is, "Well, what do you expect? Isn't it September in the garden?" I wrote on this a bit in June of 2011
Once, when I asked the local garden store owner why my kitchen was suddenly invaded by armies of flying ants, he didn't hesitate to say, "E suo tempo." I wrote about that in an earlier post, ON BEING A PRINCIPESSA (OR IMAGINING THAT YOU ARE)... Everyone, even the insects decimating my beans, deserves his moment in the sun. Although I see that any sense of permanent victory is illusory, I'm still hoping that my efforts will result in less war and a little more peace in my garden.
(I was thinking of including some photos of the various stages of these soldier bug guys, but then I remembered that my 90-year-young mom said "basta with those insect pictures!" OK, mom. This is part of my birthday present to you. Here come a few more pre-jungle garden shots, instead.)