|There's a whole litter of them in one spot.|
|This is the bug they become.|
The adults do little damage and are kind of cool, flying at lights at night and hissing at people. But the grubs are destructive so they'll go to the chickens. Sorry.
The other infestation we discovered yesterday is cheatgrass, or drooping brome grass. It's this reddish, loose-headed grass that is a plague on the West. We hate it because the sharp seed heads work their way into the flesh of the dogs. We went out to pull the little patch C. had found, and stuff it carefully into bags to burn. That's when we saw this: another patch. And another. It's all through the orchard, gone to seed, pointy and unpleasant, and too far along to stop. I guess we'll try to control it by mowing next spring before the seeds mature.
C. cut some lavender to dry.
And, below left, Jazz, the barbarian princess, has redone her hair into the yeti scraggle she favors. C. put a binder clip in so she could actually see and eat. Disreputable, I know. Right, her sweet face that she doesn't want anyone to see.