Day 261: Seedling Watch II

Fuck off

A new entry on my seedling-related black list.  Slugs.  Today I notice lots of them, trailing around the new grassy shoots like damp ghosts.  Are they just enjoying the view?  A quick internet search confirm my suspicions.  For a slug, a patch of new grass is much like a tube of Pringles.  They start munching and they just can't stop. 

The seedlings have been up for a scant two days.  And the slugs have arrived.  So there are two possibilities - either they have an incredibly advanced communications system complete with GPS capability ('ALL slugs to report to new grassed area, N 51 45, W 0 20.  Over').  Or there is a huge underground army of slugs, just sailing around everywhere on the off-chance.  Either way I feel overwhelmed.  I cannot condone the salty approach.  So the only option is flicking them away, but that means a level of vigilance and a lack of squeamishness I cannot maintain. 

And you. Fuck off.  

Please also fuck off

Cats.  Pigeons.  Slugs.  I briefly wondered whether these would cancel each other out in correct food-chain heirarchy - the pigeons eating the slugs; the cats chasing the pigeons, leaving me to terrorise the cats with a pump-action water pistol.  Turns out they are utterly indifferent to each other in the face of fresh soil (cats), grass seed (pigeons), tender shoots (slugs).  I - the apex predator - am the only one bothered by all of them. 

It's too stressful.  Once again, I am going to resort to survival of the fittest.  There's no room for weakness in this garden.  Trial by cat, pigeon and slug.  If you can make it through these, then you move to the next level.  Where you face dandelions, months of neglect and then aggressive strimming. 

Good luck, grass.