Every year, something new prevents me from having the garden of my dreams. First it was poor soil, then the gophers, and then the deer. I would fix one problem only to encounter another. Meet this years menace:
The tomato horn worm. Icky. So, when Noah asked how he could earn some money before we go into town tomorrow, I told him I would pay him per worm to pick them off my tomato plants. The boy made $1.25 and got a jar full of pets…
I will never understand boys… Anyway, he had them until he showed Papa, who insisted that they immediately be fed to the chicken. (Yes, chicken. Singular. We have one lunatic chicken, who fortunately for me, loves to eat tomato horn worms. It almost makes up for her not laying eggs.)
Noah was okay with that. There will be more tomorrow. It is an invasion, I tell you! It will be a miracle if I get any tomatoes at all.
All photos (except the first one) were taken by my little seven year old photographer, Noah.