Committing Green-Mass Murder

I spent my Sunday morning committing mass murder – a bloody green massacre in my garden. Green tomato horn worms had decided to descend upon my just ripening tomatoes. Now, I am not above sharing the bounty, but when the invading creatures decided to sample every single red tomato before finishing off the most delectable one, I had enough and declared war. Using my trowel, I pried them from the leafless steams (apparently they enjoy the tomato leaves as well – kind of like getting the whole salad) and smashed their spiked bodies on the brick walkway. Dark green goo left wet marks on the path. On one tomato plant alone, I killed nine of the horned creatures. They were not just small either; two of the larger ones were at least three inches long and as thick around as a nickel.

I was able to salvage a whole ripe tomato from their feast. After some additional weeding, I took my lonely tomato inside and made myself a mushroom, tomato, and herm cheese omelet. The only thing not home grown or home made about my breakfast was the mushrooms and the oil I used in the pan. The queso blanco cheese I had made (for the first time) the week before and the eggs came from my chickens. I still have some work to do in perfecting the cheese, but for my first cheese making efforts, I am extremely proud. Every time I eat the cheese, I get that giddy smile on my face as I think of the different flavors I could create. I meant for my omelet to be a two-egg omelet but wound up with a three-yolk omelet instead. I am not complaining. In fact, cracking the larger egg and seeing the twin golden orange yolks made me grin. I would miss these when my chickens grew a bit older and figured out the exact science for egg laying. As for now, I enjoyed collecting an assortment of odd shaped eggs from my newly laying spring chicks.

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2 responses to “Committing Green-Mass Murder”

  1. Judy says :

    If they sentenced all of us mass tomato horn worm murderers to jail, they couldn’t hold us all. And, wasn’t it satisfying to know where the vast majority of the ingredients in your meal came from and what was or wasn’t sprayed on it? I grew up in my grandfather’s NH barn and now love and respect our family barn – barn life is a good life.

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