Up at the ranch-house I told Matt about my problem with the crickets. ‘I’ll give you something that’ll fix `em’,’ he said. He rummaged around in his workshop and produced a product called Tempo. I sprayed all around the outside of the red house, and inside, along the base of the walls, each room in turn.
Outside, I dismantled the vegetable plot. Rolled up the wire and piled up the posts and poles for firewood.
I guess it was worth trying to grow a few things. I did, after all, get to eat some lettuce, a couple of servings of French beans, one or two zucchini and a plate of baby beets. I’d rather not figure out how much those items cost me, but there was a moment, back at the beginning of July, when it seemed I really was going to succeed. Here it is, at a peak, between hailstorms and before the grasshoppers arrived. I took this photo on my birthday.
I guess I should’ve gone the extra yard and invested in some closely woven wire mesh, enough to cover the entire plot. Oh well, as I have had reason to say several times since I got here… live and learn. The worrying part of that motto is the looming realisation that I am probably going to arrive at death’s door having finally figured it all out. I won’t be the first.
The insect spray seems to have proven pretty effective. A few odd crickets are still emerging; one or two are even chirping, but not for long; and I got an uninterrupted night’s sleep.
The temperature got up to 89 yesterday, and they’re forecasting 95 today, but somehow the heat doesn’t seem as oppressive as it was a week or two ago. I think that’s because the mornings are cool, and of course the days are appreciably shorter now.
Okay, today I really am going to get weaving. Really.