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Oct. 31st, 2005 03:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urocyonI am Rachel, Scourge of Snails.
Yup, not particularly impressive. I spent a silly amount of time out in the drizzle earlier, picking off baby* snails and sending them for a swim in the Cocktail of Doom. (Apple juice I can't even remember buying, from the recesses of the fridge, fortified with a little vodka--couldn't find any beer in the place, and a little anesthetic made me feel better about it, at least.) At least 400 down, I don't even want to contemplate how many more to go. I also tore down the dead/dying nasturtium vines they were feeding on. In places, around the vines, I couldn't see the wall surface for snails this morning--gone now, at least.
Say what you like about the British climate, it is remarkably good for terrestrial gastropods. The slugs should be happy; I didn't want to go near them, hefty rubber gloves or no. Maybe a bit of judicious salt application when it's a tad drier. They seem to have been breeding like mad in this wet weather, as well.
Snail-gathering has been just about the high point of the day, thus far, besides recharging afterward with a mug of tea big enough for Feist to paddle in. :) The rest has been spent in the usual laundry, trying to figure out what to do with still more frozen chicken legs, procrastinating actually starting into my latest writing project under the guise of needing to do more research, etc., which is one reason I've been quiet lately--inducing termininal boredom isn't kind. The ability/urge to sit down for five minutes in front of a keyboard doesn't always keep up with ideas and happenings, unfortunately. Ah, I did have a surprise from a bookseller over the weekend. The cheap individual in question shipped my book from Brooklyn on a 25¢ "Printed Matter for the Blind" rate, after charging me full international postage. That's a pretty crappy way to behave toward a customer, never mind the USPS. Ah, well, I doubt the shop has much repeat mail-order business.
Ah, and Feist lay down next to me earlier, and wanted petted for at least five minutes--yay! She's coming around to wanting human attention more, now that Smoke has almost finished weaning her.
* I call these things "babies" out of technical necessity. The ones out of an earlier hatching--about 20% or so--were already bigger than the garden snails I'm most accustomed to seeing. (Also see a lot of these and their shells--I had no idea they didn't eat plants.)
Yup, not particularly impressive. I spent a silly amount of time out in the drizzle earlier, picking off baby* snails and sending them for a swim in the Cocktail of Doom. (Apple juice I can't even remember buying, from the recesses of the fridge, fortified with a little vodka--couldn't find any beer in the place, and a little anesthetic made me feel better about it, at least.) At least 400 down, I don't even want to contemplate how many more to go. I also tore down the dead/dying nasturtium vines they were feeding on. In places, around the vines, I couldn't see the wall surface for snails this morning--gone now, at least.
Say what you like about the British climate, it is remarkably good for terrestrial gastropods. The slugs should be happy; I didn't want to go near them, hefty rubber gloves or no. Maybe a bit of judicious salt application when it's a tad drier. They seem to have been breeding like mad in this wet weather, as well.
Snail-gathering has been just about the high point of the day, thus far, besides recharging afterward with a mug of tea big enough for Feist to paddle in. :) The rest has been spent in the usual laundry, trying to figure out what to do with still more frozen chicken legs, procrastinating actually starting into my latest writing project under the guise of needing to do more research, etc., which is one reason I've been quiet lately--inducing termininal boredom isn't kind. The ability/urge to sit down for five minutes in front of a keyboard doesn't always keep up with ideas and happenings, unfortunately. Ah, I did have a surprise from a bookseller over the weekend. The cheap individual in question shipped my book from Brooklyn on a 25¢ "Printed Matter for the Blind" rate, after charging me full international postage. That's a pretty crappy way to behave toward a customer, never mind the USPS. Ah, well, I doubt the shop has much repeat mail-order business.
Ah, and Feist lay down next to me earlier, and wanted petted for at least five minutes--yay! She's coming around to wanting human attention more, now that Smoke has almost finished weaning her.
* I call these things "babies" out of technical necessity. The ones out of an earlier hatching--about 20% or so--were already bigger than the garden snails I'm most accustomed to seeing. (Also see a lot of these and their shells--I had no idea they didn't eat plants.)
