Mexican Bean Beetle Infestation

So the thing that happens when you neglect your much-loved garden for weeks, is when the weather cools, it stops thunderstorming, and you have a block of time to really do some work in there, you find a total, complete infestation of insect pests - in this case, the Mexican bean beetle. Most of the leaves on my sugar snaps have taken on that characteristic lacy look, created by the larvae and beetles chomping away - mostly on the undersides of the leaves. We're near the end of the bean season anyway, so after picking the last pocketful of sugar snaps, I figured the best way to take care of this problem would be to tear it all out. Almost every leaf was home to either pupating beetles, feeding larvae, clusters of eggs, or adult beetles moving around! I made a special effort to watch for the faster moving beetles that easily drop to the ground because they can burrow into the soil and overwinter.  I do NOT want this kind of problem again next year. It all - in every stage - had to go!

Clusters of 30-40 eggs, laid by adult beetles as frequently as every 2 days. Will hatch in 1-3 weeks.
Can be squished, but not by me!

Fuzzy-wuzzy was a pupa

Feeding larva with it's black-tipped spines does the most damage to leaves

Adult bean beetle. To be thrown in a bucket of soapy water till drowned. 

Now, on to remove all bean plant debris where the beetles or eggs could be hiding so my garden has the best chance of being pest-free next summer.

Then later, to research early bean plants to try next year. Most of the damage done to crops happens mid-late summer, and I can try to get most of my harvests before that time.

And mental note from here on out: be in the garden more to prevent a few beetles from taking complete control! Not only could my sugar snaps have continued to produce for a few weeks, but oh, the heebie-jeebies when cleaning up.  I don't want to go through that again.

The fall of the tobacco hornworm (part 1 of 3)

This is the beginning of a 3 part series. In the next few blog posts, you'll see:

• The fall of the tobacco hornworm
• The life of the argiope garden spider
• The rise of the butterfly

Yes, I've been very busy and have suffered no nightmares thus far. Lots of goosebumps though. Lots and lots of goosebumps.

Day 1 (above): I found this guy on my cayenne pepper plant. Hornworm covered with braconid parasitic wasps. The beneficial parasites lay eggs inside the tobacco hornworm. Leave your hornworms alone if you see it with all these horrifying goosebump-inducing things attached.

Day 2 (above): as the eggs of the parasitic wasps hatch, the larvae basically feast on the hornworm.

Day 3 (above): Today the hornworm looks a little wrecked. It has fallen off the plant and was on the ground. You can see that most of the little cocoons have opened and the parasitic wasps have emerged and taken flight. Have I mentioned goosebumps?

Day 4 (above): I can't believe just 4 days ago, the hornworm was eating away at my pepper plant. Today, it's basically done.

Label note: you might know I hate bugs, even though as the educated master gardener intern that I am, I realize that I'm really using the word "bug" improperly (see this post). The only label I have used for all my bug posts was "I hate bugs". However, I have had to add a few more labels here. In this case, "I may not necessarily hate bugs" because the parasitic wasps will that have emerged from these nasty little cocoons will take care of any remaining hornworms in my garden. When you see the spider and butterfly posts, you'll see why "I don't always hate bugs" sometimes. Sometimes. Stay tuned!

"Natural cobwebs"

Welcome to my home...

It's necessary to bust through cobwebs to enter or exit. Below, a mailbox the postal carrier approaches with care.

Below, a scene that comes alive (literally and figuratively) at night.

A young child is disturbed by what she sees.

A porch that invites no neighbor to call.

You might not have needed so many pictures to get the picture. Now if you know me, you know I'm an independent woman, but the idea of any insect or arachnid's "sac" falling on my head and breaking into a billion babies brings me to ask the hubby to sweep the cobwebs. Now, this is a man who creates a lot of frustration for me as he typically makes half-assed attempts to capture gigantic spiders to relocate to the outdoors. I'm usually left angrily standing on the couch while he remarks, "Awwww, sooorrry. He's too fast". I don't know if he's just being lazy about it, slow about it, or is trying to emulate the Addams Family philosophy of design.

So when I pushed him to sweep the cobwebs THIS WEEKEND (damn it!), he convinced the kids to believe they were "natural cobwebs" and necessary for an authentic Halloween. In the end, I got my cobwebs swept, but ended up being the bad guy - the person cruel enough to destroy the "natural cobwebs" and possibly even the holiday they represent. He and the kids also insisted that beginning in September, any cobwebs need to stay until at least after Halloween. Have you ever heard of such a thing?!

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BY THE WAY...Don't forget the first weekly Garden to Table Challenge begins this Saturday! I hope you're ready with your post! I'll be posting even if I'm the only one, but what fun would that be for anyone? I want to know what YOU'RE eating this week! You know it's fantastic and delicious and fresh from your garden, now brag about it!

GBBD August 2010

The tough blooms below have survived not only my typical neglect, but the summer's earthquakes, thunderstorms, flash floods, and record breaking heat. This IS Maryland though, and as much I'd like to say I'm being melodramatic, it has been a rough few weeks!

The Gaura 'whirling butterflies' (in the foreground) have been wonderful (and aptly named). It's really sprawled out - perhaps from the excess rain, but I like the look. The flowers open each morning and close as it gets hot in the afternoon. It's been blooming for weeks and weeks. I'd say this perennial is a must have.

Strawberry fields gomphrena and oregano in bloom.

Alstroemeria 'sweet Laura'

Old reliable below, attracting a family of goldfinches lately.

I'm a hosta lover, but must admit I like to hurry the blooms along and snip them off. They're usually just such a mess and often detract from such beautiful foliage. BUT...the fragrance of this new hosta (must have been from some bargain bag I bought in the fall) almost knocked me over. I swear it's as close to jasmine as I'll ever grow in my zone 6/7 garden. I'm in love with it.

Can you guess the plant that these cute little yellow blooms below belong to?

Didn't get your fix of blooms on this Garden Blogger's Bloom Day? See May Dreams Gardens for more.

P.S. If you've been following the saga of my seasonal battle with
mosquitoes, I'll give you an update. Mosquitoes 27, me zero. I
thought I was being smarter than the mosquitoes by tucking my pant legs in my
socks and even tucking my shirt in my pants. Totally. Tucked.
In. I was wearing regular jersey knit pants and when I was
bent over weeding, the mosquitoes must have been able to feast on my butt
through the stretched out fabric. Sounds crazy, but I can't think of any
other way I could have gotten 27 mother freaking bites on my butt, and nowhere
else. I'm using Benadryl like body lotion.

The great outdoors (is testing my resolve)

Despite the heat wave, things are plugging along in the vegetable garden. Here, the Japanese black trifele tomatoes are getting ready to ripen. Don't they have a beautiful shape?

But lo...my precious tomato plant has been relegated to sticks!

If you don't know me, know this: I have a certain "respect" for insects - I see their place in the scheme of things. But the fact is, I hate them - and here's what I'll admit: it's because I'm scared. Of all garden insects, I've been most scared of tomato hornworms ever since I saw one covered in parasitic wasps on a website a few years ago. I've been so scared and disgusted by them that I think I've written several posts about them by now. Today, as I was up close inspecting the damage to my tomato plant, I ended up face to face with the dreaded tomato hornworm for the first time in real life... I identified it immediately. What I didn't expect was how big it would be in real life. I screamed. I ran. I got my daughter.

She read over my shoulder as I researched on the web. You would not believe the manipulation of this smart little kid. Knowing her dad is out of town, "Mom, I'll get rid of it for $5. Otherwise, it will stay in your garden and eat all your tomato plants". I readily paid. She removed the hornworm but then had the nerve to chase after me with the bucket. Luckily, I'm smarter and as I ran into the house, I threatened to lock her out.

Apparently, where there is frass there are hornworms. I also have a 5 year old so I'm all for cutesy names for poop, but look at the size of it! In my opinion, it's absolutely abnormal for any insect to have poop of this size. This is no frass. This is a full blown bowel movement. We found another hornworm, so the bill went up to $10. My skin was crawling so my inspection may not have been too thorough, but hopefully that was it.

And just to give me more of a fright since I was already freaked out, this guy was guarding the back door. I almost had a heart attack going back for this photo (I hope you appreciate it!).

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In an additional test of my resolve...

When I remember, I wear pants and a hoodie in the garden to keep from being eaten alive by mosquitoes. I've recently written about my problem with this. So as I type this, the mosquito bites on my neck, thumb knuckle, and little toe are itching the hell out of me (I'm going to start going out in a beekeeper's suit). Also, my right butt cheek is hurting because guess what? I got stung by a bee at the pool yesterday.

A funny thing I'm thinking of now - my 5 year old could tell her own bug story. This morning, I heard a little scream just before she ran over to me and grabbed onto my legs. Pointing to a little moth on the wall, she said, "I thought that was a heart sticker so I tried to get it but it was a moth!"

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Just so I don't have nightmares, I'll end with a nicer image - the pretty blooms of hairy vetch, saving the space for garlic to be planted in October.

My sweat smells good...

...to mosquitoes. That's because I emit a wonderful proportion of carbon dioxide, octenol, nonanal (I prefer to put the accent on the first syllable), and other compounds. Yes, a large part of the mosquito's sense of smell is devoted to human targets like me. In fact, of the 72 types of odor receptors on the antennae of mosquitoes, 27 detect chemicals in human perspiration.

Some other facts about mosquitoes...

• They are vector agents for not only malaria, but yellow fever, dengue fever (which a friend of a friend is now recovering from), and chikungunya. Now, I don't know if you know what that is, but I bet it's something you could probably do without.


• You may have heard that bats and purple martins devour mosquitoes, but actually only about 1% of the diets of these winged friends consist of mosquitoes.


• There are all kinds of breeding grounds for mosquitoes in your backyard - consider the more hidden places that may collect pools of stagnant water - a dip in a bag of mulch, kids' toys, a shovel left out, a watering can, a wheelbarrow, etc.


• We know DEET is a great repellent, but also that it's dangerous. There are all sorts of recipes for repellents out there, but the compound in catnip essential oil has been found to be 10 times more effective than DEET (and your cat may put on a good show if you wear it)! Do you have a recipe that works? I want to hear from you especially if you typically get mosquito bites but have an effective repellent!


• A mosquito not only sucks your blood, but actually injects you with saliva first. The saliva contains a sort of anti-coagulant that keeps its horrid proboscis from being clogged with blood clots.

This is all bad news for me because I happen to be highly sensitive to insect bites. A single bite will often swell up, and itch intensely for several days. What I can confirm for you though, is that as you may have seen on My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Windex does work to relieve the itch! Maybe it's because the burn of the chemical offers relief from the itch!

Once, a mosquito made its way up my pant leg and I ended up with a zig zag of 6 bites from ankle to butt cheek. Imagine what happens when the butt bite starts itching during a meeting at work. So now I tuck my pant legs into my socks (it's not a great look). Another time, I must have been bent over doing something and got 4 bites around my waist. After this, I began to cover any exposed skin with bug spray. Thinking that the bug spray would prevent the usual bites on my legs and arms, I then got a bite on my eyelid. My eye was swollen for 2 days.

This all brings me to the motivation for this post. Yesterday, a mosquito was in our bedroom. I was brushing my teeth and heard a loud SLAP. Then my husband said, "Sorry buddy, I didn't want to kill you".

I felt no compassion for the dead mosquito.

Page 22

...there on page 22 of the June/July issue of ReadyMade magazine, is a tip that an editor happened to stumble upon from a post on trapping fruit flies from deep in the Greenish Thumb archives. Had I guessed something like this could happen, I would have jazzed up the blog photo to look a little less like an old urine sample sitting on my kitchen counter. No doubt I will need to make the fruit fly trap I described in the post again this year as I have already gotten lazy about dumping my kitchen scraps. Love to collect them, hate to walk them out.

Anyway, I wish I could have my 15 minutes of fame (or at least what's as close to fame as I'm going to get!) for something a little more attractive - and maybe for something that doesn't involve bugs, but I'll take what I can get. In all seriousness, I'm actually really, really flattered that a magazine editor would spend any amount of time on my blog, particularly one from an uber cool magazine like ReadyMade (all the blogs are great too - click here for the home and garden one).

You may not see ReadyMade magazine in your local supermarket, but can find a copy at Barnes and Noble or Borders. Better yet, get a subscription. It is completely FILLED with creative, inspiring, and doable DIY projects, interesting articles about food, travel, art, and fun stuff. I'm certain my gardening friends would love it. I don't want to give too much away, but just as an example from this issue, I'm planning to make an incredibly simple and beautiful centerpiece from an old brick, a succulent, and a votive. Imagine the possibilities...

Got a crush on cochineal (not)

If you did not see my last post, first click HERE for the trivia question, then please come back.


Great guesses by those who left a comment, but the A+ grade goes to Erica and Julie. The scale insect in the photo in my last post is actually a bug - unlike most insects that we loosely refer to as bugs. THIS post explained that a bug is a member of insecta hemiptera. The hemiptera in the photo is a scale insect called cochineal. The cochineal is sessile - it stays in one spot like a barnacle. We don't like scale insects because they are not only disgusting in their whitish-gray, waxy armour, but also because as they're silently perched on our plants, they're sucking the life out of them with their beaklike mouthparts. The females (males have wings) stay put, and after mating, will birth tiny nymphs. The nymphs will cover themselves with a whitish waxy substance for protection from rain and sun.


HOWEVER (the excitement builds as the pieces of this gross but fascinating puzzle come together), underneath the waxy whitish substance, the bodies of these insects produce a red pigment that makes the insect's insides appear dark red - carmine to be exact. Fiberists, painters, make-up artists, and observant 7-year olds with a complete Crayola boxes may more quickly connect carmine to the deep darkish red that describes it. Carmine is actually the ground bodies of the cochineal. The cute and quirky presenter in my Master Gardener class on herbs (I only drifted off for a moment, I swear, but somehow in that moment, I missed how the cochineal fell under the topic of herbs), passed around a dish of several cochineal insects that she crushed and added a bit of water to. The color - a rich, beautiful red (flanked by the semi-ground grayish bugs that didn't get a fair mashing!).


You might now make the connection to the British Red Coat photo. Yes, it has been said that the British military dyed their uniforms with the carmine pigment produced by the cochineal, but guess what? Carmine produced from crushed cochineal insects are also used in coloring foods. You and I have probably eaten these bugs. Carmine is used in jams, candy, drinks, sausages, cookies, icing, marinades, gelatin products - you name it. Despite the widespread use, some people can be severely allergic to it, so beginning in January of 2011, the US FDA is requiring all foods containing cochineal to label it as such in the ingredients.

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia

I did conduct a thorough search for scale insects after my MG class. I thought it'd be cool to crush these guys up and make some ink to show you. I only found a few but it still took every bit of courage to do the mashing with a spoon (this post recalls the time an insect exploded in my face). As the ultimate anti-climax, all I ended up with was crushed brownish-gray scale insect. Turns out the cochineal that produces carmine is a native of South America and Mexico. Though I do hate bugs, I did feel bad about crushing them for no legitimate reason. The scale insects did have their last laugh though as they entered my subconscious in a most horrifying dream - (after making it through the entomology class unscathed!). Shiver!

You've eaten bugs

Trivia of the day: What do the title of this post, the photo of the scale insects on the cacti, and the photo of the British Red Coat have in common? Please take a guess by leaving a comment!

Answer will be posted sometime this weekend!

Both photos courtesy of Wikipedia

How do you spell bug?

... h-e-m-i-p-t-e-r-a, h-e-t-e-r-o-p-t-e-r-a. Insects in this order of the class insecta are commonly know as bugs. So you see, a bug is an insect, but an insect is not necessarily a bug.



In college, my husband had a friend who was studying entomology. At a party, his wife was telling me about their wonderful honeymoon in the tropics. She got to lay on the beach and watch their stuff while he went into the woods to catch bugs. I love entomologists. What other profession attracts people who are so smart and so reverent towards some of Mother Nature's most grotesque creations?



Tonight's topic in my Master Gardener program was Entomology. We were enlightened by another passionate and engaging speaker who has again changed the way I see the world. I took copious notes and intended to pass some information along to you, but I don't think I would be able to explain these facts in as interesting a way as an entomologist could directly.



I will just pass along an interesting tidbit and pose one question to you - as we students pondered in class today. You've heard that the female praying mantis will bite off the head of the male praying mantis, right? WHY do you think this is? I mean, evolutionarily-thinking, biologically-thinking, why? I would love to hear your guesses and I will reveal the answer in the body of this post on Friday.

Photo courtesy of Adamantios, Wikipedia

In the meantime, check out this website created by the speaker I heard tonight - Michael Raupp. Bug of the Week highlights a bug you'll encounter somewhere in your part of the world. Each week there are photos, often times videos, and stories about the insect. There is also a very complete archive to search through.



Now, off to think pleasant thoughts before bed...

Edited to add: fortunately, there have been no insect nightmares. Apparently there are several theories as to why the female praying mantis will cannibalize the male. What often happens is that the female will bite off and eat the male's head DURING sex. In Mike Raupp's lab, one female went straight in for the kill, biting the male right in half through the middle. Another male had several successful conquests and kept his head. I'm not sure anyone really knows the real answer to my question posted earlier this week, but here's the theory I learned Tuesday night: After sex, the praying mantis turns her attention to laying eggs, requiring great amounts of protein. The largest source of protein? The head. You'd think that anything with brains would learn to stay away from something that will probably bite your head off during sex. Well, if you had a little brain in your head, a little brain in your mid-section, and a little brain in your sex appendage, you'd keep going back for more (I guess I could insert a Tiger Woods joke here, but the man's apologized - perhaps I'll leave him alone for now).

Dear sister: here's what's so fulfilling

My sister, who would probably enjoy growing vegetables, and who had actually begun experimenting with container gardening before baby Emmy and her shining smile came along and changed our lives forever, sent me a thought-provoking e-mail. Here's an excerpt:

I've been thinking lately about your gardening too. what do you think it is that you like so much? Like, you said yourself in a post a while back that you get obsessed with ideas and then go fully into it, but sometimes they don't last. So why do you think gardening has lasted? What do you find so fulfilling? You're much, much better at this, but you don't really eat vegetables, you hate bugs, for a while you hated being sweaty...what gives? :) Write a post on that!

Dear Sister,


You're right, I generally do not like vegetables, fully hate bugs, and it's fair to say that I don't like to sweat. But I've gotten much better not just about the veggies, but also the bugs and the sweating.

It's true I don't like veggies. Remember when our mother would make me sit at the dinner table in front of a plate of greens, all alone after everyone was done eating? She'd be washing dishes, threatening all kinds of malice if I didn't eat my greens? Remember how I'd be in tears at the texture of peas? Remember how I'd gag on the taste of mushrooms? Well, maybe not because you'd eaten your vegetables and were gone. Well, I was scarred. Despite these early traumatic dinner table incidents, I've acquired a taste for certain vegetables (avocado, beans, artichokes, baby spinach). Sure they sort of just cross the line into the category of vegetables, and some aren't even real vegetables, but you know. It's been rough. Guess what though? In the past few years, since I've been gardening, I've acquired a taste for edamame, butternut squash (only if it's in soup), tomatoes (only served certain ways or I'll start gagging - and I can't eat any seeds), and this year...get this...I tried some asparagus for the first time!!! It was really good! But then again, I was really hungry, I only ate one spear, and it was purple. I think I'd have to build up some serious reserves to eat green ones. You'll still never catch me eating broccoli, peas, green beans, etc. However, even though I don't eat it all, there are many veggies that are fun to grow, and the health benefits of growing organic produce picked minutes before cooking makes vegetable gardening very fulfilling. As long as my kids keeps falling for the, "Oh, mommy has already eaten her portion while she was cooking", it should all work out. Check it out...the weekend's harvest - wouldn't you feel fulfilled?

Here's my oregano. It's next to the thyme and basil. I used to grow a larger variety of herbs, but these are the three I use most in my cooking. Having fresh herbs means I can cook more creatively, and think beyond the usuals I feed my family. Also, since I've started gardening, I've found that we eat and think more seasonally, and it's wonderful to sort of mark time in this way. It's fall - it's getting cold. The leaves are changing. The bowl of butternut-leek soup with some crusty French bread is going to feel really nice this weekend...





Sister, you and I both - we despise those bugs. I'll be honest in saying that in an afternoon's gardening, I labor away silently, pausing from time to time only to curse aloud at the bugs. Here are the bugs on my most (un)wanted list: the boxelder, the roly-poly, the slug, the flea beetle, the aphid, and my newest nemesis - the grub. Then of course, are the ones in the "scary" category: the stinkbug, the cicada, the praying mantis, the tomato hornworm. I have no appreciation for bugs. I realize their importance in ecology, but every bug I stop to observe, morbidly fascinated by, I find to be ugly, disgusting, or a nuisance. My belief in karma is the only thing that keeps me from smooshing every bug I see, beneficial or non-beneficial to the gardener. But here's the reality - you dig in the dirt, you find bugs. Over the years, I've become less frightened of bugs, because I've learned a little about their habits. A spider is more afraid of me than I am of it. A horrible looking cicada - is often just the shell of a horrible looking cicada. Ultimately, I have probably become a bit jaded by and less fearful of the bugs, and have learned to just allow them to live. The dirt belongs more to them than to me, I suppose. I guess we've reached an understanding. If they don't crawl on my neck, they don't get smooshed. If they don't crawl on my hand, they don't get flung across the yard. And worms? Well, we're on real friendly terms right now. A lot of garden bloggers I know are big on bugs. They have sniper-like camera lenses and eyes like hawks. Part of my survival strategy is that I really don't look too closely for bugs. I did spy this guy this weekend, and nearly had a heart attack in fear that it'd jump on me as I took this photo... So do I like it? No. Is it disgusting and scary? A thousand times yes. Does it keep me from spending time in my garden? See photos above.




I generally don't like to sweat, sister, you're right. I don't like being sticky. I hate humidity. I don't like my face to grease up. I don't like to walk around town hot. Sweating has always gone hand in hand with being tired and cranky. And if I can't get my hands on a frappucino, then there will be hell to pay by anyone who gets in my way. In the garden, it's different.


While I would really enjoy some easy strolling in the garden, shears in hand deadheading some pretty flowers, then enjoying some relaxing on a lounge chair under an umbrella, I truly enjoy working, and doing hard physical labor (remember my landscaping project?). Perhaps this will change if I ever get my garden to look just-so, but somehow I doubt this will ever happen. My friend Grace has mentioned that I move my plants around a lot. Very little has stayed where it originally was several years ago. I have new ideas to try, new plants to try, new beds to build, and so far I've expanded the perennial garden every year. Here is my work from this weekend - expanding the perennial garden. It was a cool-weathered weekend, but I was still sweating for hours. I've found a few strategies work for me though - the bandana thingy with the gel inside that you soak in water (that we got in Denver) really helps on extremely hot (like black-out inducing) days. A bandana or wrist band helps mop the sweat that threatens to blind me under the hot sun, and making an effort to go inside and drink water is really important.








So dear sister, let's just talk about this photo, and you'll understand why gardening is so fulfilling for me. It may look silly now with a bunch of baby plants, but this garden will look great when the plants are established. I will get to walk through a garden every day. I will get to closely examine the sedum. I will get to touch the lamb's ear. I will get to catch the fragrance of the roses and oriental lilies. I will get to awe at the delphinium. I will get to appreciate every day, a clematis that is shamelessly beautiful. This weekend, I worked about 5 hours on Saturday and 5 hours on Sunday - stripping sod, moving it to another location, digging through clay and removing rocks, mixing in the compost, planting, and mulching. I was covered in dirt, probably had bugs in my hair, and sweat my ass off. But you know what? It felt really fulfilling.

Fruit flies buggin' you?

This homemade trap, introduced by my co-worker, really works. I have to confess that I'm a lazy composter. I compost everything. I have good intentions. I just don't go out and dump the bucket into the compost pile often enough. Inevitably, there are fruit flies.

Last week I tried one of those electronic bug zappers that look like tennis rackets and almost had a heart attack. My idea was to be able to press the button and do a slow swipe, electrocuting all fruit flies in one controlled range of motion. Unfortunately, it came too close to a new water bottle and sent a shock of electricity out (really makes me wonder what that seemingly plastic water bottle is made of!). I tried to be more careful and the next time I held the button down and swiped (away from the water bottle), the racket came too close to the metal range blower, and I was almost struck down. I carefully placed the racket down and decided to try less violent methods (such as death by low-tech drowning).

This fruit fly trap is simply apple cider vinegar in a cup with a piece of plastic wrap rubber-banded around the top and holes poked in with the end of a paper clip. What you can't see are the 15 fruit flies trapped and drowned in the vinegar. We did try this at work, but I don't think it was as effective. There are two possible confounding variables. At work, we used the Press and Seal type of plastic wrap, but the trap below uses regular plastic wrap. Also, at work, the level of the vinegar was lower, in the trap below, I've used more vinegar.

If the fruit flies are buggin' you, this trap will cost you little to nothing to try, and it really works for me!

Brookside Gardens - how many different types of inspiration are there?

As a kid, I always enjoyed Brookside Gardens, in nearby Silver Spring, Maryland. I always looked forward to crossing the stone paths over various ponds, and walking for what feels (at least to a kid on a hot summer day) for miles and miles to the ultimate destination - the Japanese Tea House - a peaceful, natural structure surrounded by great boulders and weeping trees and shrubs of all sorts, and overhanging a large pond filled with koi when I was a child, and turtles today. I'm not sure if the reminiscent feeling is due to the summer days I spent there as a child, but being there transports you to another place and time. Just past the Japanese Tea House, is a fairly new labyrinth worth the long winding race walk to reach the end to jump up and down and cheer- unless of course, you're using the labyrinth for it's intended purpose - meditation. Here is a beautiful spot with a beautiful message along the way to the Japanese Tea House.

As an adult, I appreciate the new Visitor's Center where I attended a Horticulture Symposium with my friend Grace last year. It was great fun to have a full day of inspiration and be in an auditorium filled with other gardening fanatics from every neighboring state. Today, I appreciated that the Visitor's Center is also at the midway point so my heat-exhausted kids could smile again upon entering the air-conditioned building. After getting water and using the bathroom, we exit again to play and explore in the also fairly new, and very manageable sized Children's Garden.

As a parent, I was a damn good sport for taking my kids to the annual Wings of Fancy butterfly show. Here's a little secret - I'm deathly afraid of butterflies. Though some may see these creatures as beautiful and delicate wonders of nature, I see them as enormous winged insects that can't see where they're going. Often, they dive bomb towards my face, just to veer away at the last moment. Usually at this Wings of Fancy show, they land on me. Last year, to both freak me out and embarrass me publicly, a butterfly sat right on my backside between the butt cheeks for the entire length of our visit. Having learned that butterflies are attracted to bold colors (I wore green pants last year), I dressed in gray capris and a dark gray tank top today. Did that bring any reprieve? At one point, I had a butterfly on my head, one on my shoulder, and had big time heebie jeebies, all the while with smile on face, "Look, Lyric! Aren't they beautiful" through clenched teeth, tight fists, and goosebumps all over. In fact, just seeing the extent of the goosebumps today gave me goosebumps. This is why I feel that as a parent, I'm a damn good sport.

Can you spot the butterfly in the photo below? As I've mentioned before, nature is weird.

As a conservationist obsessed with saving water, I was in awe at this huge structure below, just imagine how much rain you could capture with this baby! hhhhaaaaawwwww... I also loved the bright green plants arranged like stepping stones - or at least that's how it looked to me.

As a gardener with about eight new fall gardening catalogs to peruse, I was inspired by the late summer perennials on display - today I fell in love with gomphrena "strawberry fields". I must have it.

As a new garden blogger eager to share, I can't explain why I didn't take any pictures of the many gorgeous plant and flower combinations, or the beautiful and serene landscaping. My only thought is that maybe since a large garden is so full of different types of inspiration, the brain can only register so much. Each time I visit, I think, "I really have to come here more often", and perhaps when I do next, the Fragrance Garden will pique my interest, or maybe the native trees, or perhaps the woodland plantings, or the garden structures, or the use of ornamental grasses, or the tropicals, or the spring bulbs, or the plaque inscriptions, or the autumn interest, or the... You know what I'm talkin' about.

Nature is weird

Since I started gardening 4 years ago, I have found it a ... "fun" ... challenge to learn about new bugs, mostly in an effort to diagnose a problem. I am a wannabe master gardener afterall, and that's part of a master gardener's job. I know what the different stages of boxelder bug development look like, and how to prevent infestations. I can spot leaf miner damage a mile away. Ultimately though, I hate bugs. I know they play an important role in ecology, and that probably most bugs serve some purpose (except for maybe the stinkbug), but I don't like them. Even the beneficials. I know ladybugs are a happy vision, but I'd rather they fly away home.

My sister has been asking me about a white, triangular-shaped bug with a "little puff of fuzz on it's butt". Interesting specimen indeed. Oftentimes, it's the fact that these bugs are so totally interesting that disgusts me so much. You can't NOT look, but at the same time, you know it will bring nightmares. For example, what if I told you that if you clicked this link here, you would find a photo of something I find particularly fascinating yet disgusting - parasites on a tomato hornworm. If you're like me, you'll click, you'll practically pass out, but nonetheless, you'll click. Before you quickly close the window, you might even subconsciously try to take in as much detail as you can.

One morning, I am on my way out for work when I spy on my front door a tiny triangular-shaped bug that looked like it had a little tuft of fuzz - perhaps on it's butt (well, I guess if bugs had butts, it'd be on it's butt). I thought, "Hello, you weird little fucker" (Granted I have a potty mouth anyway, but I almost always curse in any dealings with bugs). I remembered that my sister said it was almost "cute" looking and if you got close, it had these eyes that would follow you if you moved. I got close to the bug. Real close. I could not see any eyes on the thing, but the little tufts of fuzz on the bug were really interesting indeed. Sort of reminded me of cotton candy thread. Very delicate silky threads. I got even closer so that I was about 4 inches from the specimen. Then the most horrifying thing that could happen to me at 6am on my way to work happened. The cute triangular bug exploded on my face. If I would not have awakened my younger daughter, I would have screamed. I know it exploded because it was there, 4 inches from my face one second, and the next, it was gone and in it's place, minuscule dots of clear liquid . On my face, cool, moist bug guts. What the hell happened? Defense mechanism? My theory until now was that it exploded. Now that I've had time to think rationally, perhaps it sprayed me with something and flew away while I was momentarily incapacitated. Either way, nature is really weird.