Sow There!

If you’re like most people who garden, an occasional garden snail or an army of munching mollusks are a menace to your plants.
I have no compunction about killing garden snails.
First off, they’re not native.
That’s wonderful that snails are an excellent source of protein and taste yummy when smothered with butter and garlic.
However, I don’t think that justifies importing snails from Europe for food without thinking of the countless future generations of gardeners.
I can think of a handful of other things that are even more delicious when smothered with garlic and butter, and those things don’t nibble on my plants.

If you’re interested in learning more about the art of escargot, you can order a booklet on home snail preparation from the Embarcadero Home Cannery: www.ehcan.com/snailsasfood.html.
But if you’re like me, you’re interested in ridding your garden of those wet-day garden gobblers.

Miracle in the rain
Last week there was a light rain, and Tommy and I went for a walk in the evening. I had just plunked down my entire tax return on car repairs and was about to embark upon a semi-sensitive discussion about money.
In a deft act of deflection, Tommy spied a parade of snails on the moist, gray expanse of the sidewalk on Seventh Avenue and Laburnum and completely distracted me from my topic.
Soon, Tommy began rummaging through the landscaping finding me more snails to crunch.
The planting beds in front of the medical office provide a rich breeding ground. Snails especially like ivy, which I call the “love shack” for snails.
The thing about snails, is they are hermaphrodites and are perfectly capable of procreating even if they are the last survivor on an island.
The snails that day were pretty easy picking, although after about 15 minutes we had to be more crafty to dislodge the snails that were clinging resolutely to the strappy leaves of the agapantha plants.
We must have looked a little strange that day, with Tommy bent down and tossing me mollusk after mollusk.
Perhaps like a lot of things — such as germs, gray hairs, loose change in your purse and Salem witches — you don’t always see snails unless you’re looking for them.
After a couple dozen crunches, I decided to start counting.
I started thinking about the snails who survived our onslaught and how in a year or so the surviving few would sit around the equivalent of a snail campfire and reminisce about the Heather/Tommy snail massacre of 2008.
When we were done, we had tallied 204.
I was excited to get home and visit my own garden within the last 10 minutes of daylight.
I was surprised, but not displeased, when we returned home and I could only find one snail in my yard.
The lack of snails inhabitants can be directly linked the power outage in June 2006.
That day we were joined by the then 8-year-old next door who made a rare appearance in our yard due to the lack of electricity flowing to his Xbox. After a bit of reluctance, the kid joined Tommy and I in making snails pretty much an endangered species in my yard.

Poison takes the fun out of it
The combination of these two snail events really made me think about “organic control.”
When I first started gardening I would read the garden books that recommended hand-picking of snails. I thought this was a bunch of bahooey and somehow uncivilized to hunt at night with a flashlight.
But now I realize that poison snail bait (even earth-friendly iron phosphate), copper barriers, tuna cans filled with beer, lines of salt, keeping ducks or chickens, applying nematode powder, are all a waste of time and money.
These snail fighting tactics deprive people like me the joy of hunting and splattering, as well as a good way for Tommy to avoid uncomfortable conversations.

Maybe we can turn this past-time into a lucrative side job ... “snail hunters for hire.”