Future Butterflies of America

I used to be in love with them. The bigger, juicier, or fuzzier, the better. And in Texas in the fall and spring, there seems to be a never-ending parade of gigantic caterpillars crossing the road everywhere I go. I counted 5 just this morning on the way home from dropping Boo off at school.

Yes, I said crossing the road. Please use your imagination to conjure a mental picture of a caterpillar so big, you can see it crossing the road from 30 feet away. They are that big. They come in black, grey, yellow and orange, and some of them are as big as my pinkie finger.

Why do they cross the road? I have no idea. But this week, I have stopped avoiding them; in fact I am beginning to take pleasure in accelerating to squish them. Actually, I'm not that cold. Yet. But I have begun fantasizing about it. And I have stopped feeling guilty for the ones I do accidentally hit.

I know, I am a terrible person. But those cute fuzzy caterpillars are actually eating and pooping machines. They have eaten the lettuce in my garden, and deposited little black thank you gifts all over whatever they left behind. We captured a few for observation, and have learned that they literally push out a poop ball about every five minutes. It's insane!

I've got to get me over to Producer's Co-op for some 'pillar repeller. Then I will be happy about them again. I would love to have warm fuzzy feelings for these fuzzy friends. But I am very disinterested in growing a garden for their personal use. So until I get that pesticide set up, I am collecting every one I can find and turning it over to my death squad children for execution observation.