Why am I wearing gear worthy of warding off an air-borne zombie infection? This stuff in the spray bottle is so potent that inhaling the aerosol mist is identical to snorting jalapeño peppers up each nostril.  What brought me, a model of calm repose and Buddha-like spiritual evolution, to skulk on the deck with a crazed glint in my eye?
Rewind to several weeks ago: a lovely start to Spring, the petunias are potted, the fountain is running…did I say the petunias are potted? They are indeed, and here is a glorious photo:

Nature has inspired me. I launch into the Concrete Bird Bath Experiment: Dig a hole, pour in a little sand, pour concrete over that and voila! A home-made birdbath. Himself said it looks like a ginormous poop patty from a very sick cow, but I was satisfied.

All is good with the world and the garden as I leave early one morning. When I return, a dozen green tomatoes languish on the ground, one bite taken out of each. The petunias…there ARE no petunias!
Caught red-handed:

Thus the Red Elixir of Death. Next time: How I made this stinky concoction.


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