James’s Note: In this episode, we see a werewolf drawn into a gardening debate against his will and learn about a very tiny war.
After driving back to my house at a pace that was leisurely in comparison to our earlier kamikaze run through the dubious beauty of houston, I proceeded to infuriate Damien by Insisting that I had things to do. If he wouldn’t leave me alone then he would just have to watch. Ignoring his fuming and foot tapping I went back to my garden. after retrieving the molasses which had been nicely warmed by the Sun, I mixed it with a few gallons of warm water and loaded it into my pressure sprayer. Damien watched me spray the mixture onto the soil below my plants with a look on his face that was the very picture of puzzlement.
Curiosity finally won out over annoyance and Damian blurted out,” What in the hell are you doing?” I cocked my head to the side. “What, you mean with this? I have an invasion of parasitic nematodes. The beneficial nematodes in the soil have been trying to repel them but haven’t had any luck so far. I’ve been trying to get them some bacterial support troops, but so far I have been unable to convince the plants to release the exudates that will attract my single-celled mercenaries. So failing that, I have decided to do a brute force supply drop.”
The look of honest puzzlement caused me to take mercy on him “I’m using the sugar to attract good creepy-crawlies to eat the bad creepy-crawlies that want to eat my garden.”
Damien seemed not to have noticed that he had been lured into a gardening discussion.” Wouldn’t it be simpler just to spray something to kill the Nemo whatever’s?” I sighed. This was what was wrong with the world. It was extra depressing to think that even werewolves weren’t immune to the spray everything with chemicals mentality. “ You see, there are two problems with that. If I just go through killing any pest the threatens the plants, then they never develop ways to protect themselves. This means if I want them to grow I have to keep spraying crap on top of them in a continuous cycle. If I create healthy soil biology, then the ecosystem can defend itself. Secondly, anything I spray on the soil goes into the plants. Anything that goes into the plants goes into my food. What goes into the food goes into my body. Your werewolf metabolism might be able to handle chugging a gallon of Malathion, but I would prefer to keep that crap out of my handsome and well tuned physiology.”
Damien looked at me in a lost and sceptical way until a light suddenly dawned on his face. “Oh, I get it, this is some of that druid voodoo stuff.” He nodded with the surety of someone who had made sense of the world. My sigh was deep and sonorous.His statement was asinine on so many level, I didn’t even know where to start. But rather than explaining this was merely the very basis of good organic gardening, or even pointing out that voodoo and druidry were two very different arts (both of which I practice, by the way), I just nodded sagely.
“Yes, exactly, Damien. Your powers of perception truly stagger me.” At least I was being honest.
If Damien thought I was mocking him, he chose not to point it out. Whether that was out of good manners or lack of brain cells, the world may never know. I mean, I could guess, but what do I know. I’ve been assured that my continued love for My Little Pony means that my judgment is highly suspect and I might not should be allowed to make grown up decisions.
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