operation: not-so-happy hour

SK and I spent a chunk of Sunday planting assorted veggies in a huge pile of organic mulch in my land-people's yard. While poking around under the straw that had been laid on top of the mulch to keep it moist and intact, SK found lots of huge slugs which she picked up and threw across the garden one by one as she found them. A million huge slugs did not bode well for the newly planted veggies, especially the delecate row of assorted lettuces that SK had just put in. So, operation not-so-happy hour began.

Just so you know, the best way to deal with slugs is simple, easy and cheap. (Works great for bad dates too.) Beer. A few little dishes of beer scattered here and there in the garden attracts the slugs and kills them just as they're getting a bit of a buzz without also attracting and killing all the neighborhood cats (which is one of the problems with slug bait). Why use poison when you can use Pabst?

So SK and I walked up to the seedy market on Prescott and bought a 24oz can of cheap beer. SK, who is sometimes smarter than me, was drawn to the giant 40 of Old Milwaukie's Best and asked "what is malt liquor?" in her lovely English accent which sometimes sounds so sophisticated and other times makes her seem so sweetly innocent of the wicked ways of the American underbelly. We should've gotten that 40 with the handy screw-top, then I wouldn't have to walk back up to the market on Prescott in a few minutes for more beer. I don't mind the walk, though. It's a gorgeous day.

Anyway, operation not-so-happy hour was a raging success. I checked the dishes yesterday and found several fat veggie-eaters floating belly up in each dish. Sorry fellows, it's you guys or my veggies and I vote you guys. At least they died happy. Or too briefly drunk to care.