The slugs (or snails as I more often see in my garden) like my Violetta Pac Choi as much as I do, it seems.
An old spaghetti sauce lid full of an IPA some one left at our house. Stouts, wheats, and other Other Half Approved Brews don’t make it to the garden. Thankfully our friends are a diverse crowd and I usually have a misfit beer on hand.
If you’re without unwanted beer, I’ve also had luck with rings of rock salt (sold less expensively at our grocery store when labeled “ice cream salt.”)
Of course, if you’re less squeamish than I, there’s always the seek and squish method.
I had a lazier garden day, today. I found a free manure source on Craigslist whom I need to call. I checked on the lettuce transplants (most appeared happy, a few weaker ones may not recover.) I assembled the latest weed eater, edged both front yard sections, the walk, and whacked around the garden boards.
I spent a spell sitting on a crossbeam spanning the turned earth, munching almonds, and watching the soil. Overturning a spot of leaves with a twig revealed an acorn. Setting down my stick, I cracked the acorn. Carefully prying it apart, I could see hundreds of tiny insect eggs.
I laid both sides egg-side up on my beam in the sunlight. I set about to find more acorns, disturb the eggs, and hopefully reduce spring infestations of detrimental life.
Things I learned today:
1) Acorns do not belong in garden mulch.
2) Weed eaters are an art form to utilize well. I require more practice, for following a concrete drive in a straight manner was never required in my country childhood.