... trying to kill those big black grasshoppers. I was truly hoping I had killed them all in the spring when there were tiny little things no bigger than an inch. I just got out the can of spray and went: psssst. But it is apparent I missed quite a few, so assume there was another hatching, or they have been hiding on another planet, just dropped in fully grown.
I hate 'em, because they are truly nasty, but also because my dad hated them. He thought they would lay eggs in the dead foliage of bulb plants, after greenery had died off in warm weather. Then the eggs would hatch out and they would start eating on the first thing in sight: bulbs.
He would get so frustrated when they would mow down his red spider lily blooms, right before they would open in the fall. When you could see the buds were within minutes of popping open, making a glorious show in the season when most other things are turning brown and withering, those #$%& grasshoppers would chew through the stalks before the blooms would open to make us smile.
I have been our watering things in pots though we have had good rains in recent days. Some of the pots are under the roof overhang and unless I move them out into the rain, they don't get the benefit. So those things I deliberately put in planters need more attention than the ones that are in the dirt beds.
While watering, holding the nozzle with one hand, attempting to thump the bugs off plants so I could thoroughly stomp. I have done it at least six this afternoon, and sure there are more out there, hoping to disappear in the foliage and become invisible. With their little bug brains, believing I don't see then hanging from the underside of the leaves and safe from the bottom of my shoe.
Not only highly aggravating, but remarkably ugly too.
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