Last fall, I came out and found my thimbleberry covered in what I assumed were aphids. I went back inside and finished my coffee. A couple days later they were all gone. Conclusion: Drinking coffee eradicates aphids from thimbleberry.

Ten years ago, I came out to my artichoke and found black gunk and ants all over the leaves. After research, I took a bucket of soapy water and scrubbed, rinsed and fretted over a plant I didn’t even particularly care about. The following year, I found the same infestation. I cursed at the plant and did nothing. It was the largest artichoke ever. Conclusion: The less you like a plant, the more successful it will be. I routinely say terrible things to my plants now. And they LOVE it.

Five years ago, Brownie the Bichon Frise, was running around my yard. We were both having such a fun time. And then Brownie stopped, sniffed and sat on my tomato plant, snapping it in half. To Brownie’s delight, I shrieked and chased him around the yard. Brownie’s ability to distinguish between play and human vengeance is limited. He was never caught. My rage evaporated. The tomato plant wound up as prolific as the unsnapped ones.

Since I mostly grow native plants, when I find slugs in my yard I toss them into the neighbor’s yard. Poor things would starve to death in my yard and I can’t have that on my conscience. One year I found a slug in my yard. I picked him up and threw him as far as I could. A year later the same slug showed up in my yard and said, “what the hell did you do that for?”

If you’ve learned anything from these vignettes, I would be surprised.