The storms, they are a'comin.
On our way home, Ethan and I were rocking out to the oldies ("Summer Lovin'" to be precise), and right in the middle of it, that horrendously obnoxious National Weather Service buzzing and beeping interjected to let us know that, hey, those clouds out there? Thar's sum thunder in um. Because guess what guys? Thunder clouds yield thunder. WHO KNEW?
Although now, an hour later, nary a drop of rain has hit our porch, I started to brace for the worst. Ethan, Cody and I went out on to the deck to secure the tomato and pepper plants. While Ethan picked small objects out of the pots (sticks, old orange peel) and threw them down the stairs, I tied the trellises to the side of the deck.
While I was down there, I inspected the fruits for ripeness and pruned away a few dead shoots and leaves. One leaf in particular felt squishy and soft, an observation that was soon followed by the realization: THAT'S NO LEAF, THAT'S A CATERPILLAR! I may or may not have invoked the name of Cheese and Rice and flung the poor thing down into the soil. [shudder] I can still feel it's hairy little back on my finger. The left index, if you must know.
I love gardening, except for the fact of all the bugs. And let me tell you, there had better be storms tonight. Because God forbid I touched a caterpillar FOR NO REASON.
P.S. Did you know I'm a blog contributor over at Police Wives Unite? Today's post..."When they're asked to do more," a rumination on why in the heck enough is never enough.