But hang on. Did you even know that weevils exist? Because I didn't. But they do. And there is a huge nest of them on my terrace. I used to think they were dung beetles of some sort. (Don't even get me started on the pigeon nest under the terrace. Or the view from our neighbour's hallway window...) Then, when my parents were visiting last Xmas, we went to the Natural History Museum, and what to my wonder?! but the little beggars were pinned in there with so many more worthwhile subjects, labeled Otiorhynchus ligustici. I noted it down, but was told by a guy at the nursery not to worry about them until May-ish.
And now it is May-ish. And we are being overrun. Overrun, I tell you. So I started whacking yesterday. The boys loved that. I didn't. Then, after a bit of a web-hunt this evening, I went on a weevil hunt. Dug out the old pine that was languishing against the wall in the back of the terrace, and found, to my horror, absolute masses of the creatures and their spawn. More whacking. Ugh. Went out about an hour ago, and, well... had to start whacking again. So...
Tomorrow I'll be off to the nursery again, to buy me something nasty (but organic). I'm not really for this kind of thing, normally, but I can't keep the whacking up. It's got to stop. And these beasts are eating all of my lovliest leaves.
There's one for you: Did you know that weevils eat only the tenderest leaves? I did; though, as I've already taken pains to explain, I didn't know it was weevils until this afternoon. I also figured out all on my own that they are creatures of the night. And that they are extremely tenacious. They can hold on to the side of a flushing toilet for half of the flush, for instance. But when they "get it" (and if they are not in a toilet bowl that is being flushed), they drop and play dead. This took me a while to catch on to, unfortunately.
Okay, I'm all weevil'd out.
One last thing, before I head to bed, though:
I was reading to the boys last night, when there was a strange sound, as though someone were hurling pebbles at the windows and missing (thankfully). We ran into the kitchen as Jean-Philippe was calling to come and see, and saw the above. The boys pulled on sweatshirts as soon as the hailstorm had ended, and began a frantic race for ice-rocks, which we stashed in the freezer for... what? Later? I dunno, but it was cute. And then it was over. And so was the Little Golden Book. And lights went out. The end. 'Night-'night!
