Ladybugs Make Me Uneasy

I just don't know about ladybugs.  I've heard a lot about them as natural predators and I guess Earth Day is as good a day as any to confess that I have deep misgivings about that.  I don't sell the cute little easy-to-merchandise bags at my garden center -- here's why:

Ladybug gives me the evil eye.

1. I don't think releasing clouds of ladybugs into your garden is an effective way to control soft-bodied insects like aphids.  Yes, I know.  Ladybugs are natural predators of aphids.   I've seen them with my own eyes, stalking aphids like cheetahs after (very slow) gazelles.  But I can't find any evidence that store-bought ladybugs area more effective than just doing nothing.  Want ladybugs to eat your aphids?  Stop spraying broad-spectrum insecticides and just wait awhile.  Native ladybugs will show up and eat until the populations are under control. 

Volunteer soldier in the aphid wars.

2.  I'm not okay with relocating huge populations of ladybugs from one part of the country to another.  Doesn't that seem ill-advised?  If it's not a good idea for red imported fire ants to move northward up the continent, how come it's a good idea for sweet little ladybugs to move south?  Ladybugs are harvested in great numbers from overwintering grounds, where they lie waiting docilely for the return of warm weather.  They're whisked out of the mountains in jet planes.  When they awaken from their slumber, they find themselves in red net bags at the checkout counter of your local garden center. That's if they are, in fact, native ladybugs.  There are reports of imported Asian ladybugs sold commercially as a green alternative to pesticides.

Maybe there's no harm in collecting, selling and releasing ladybugs.  But something about just doesn't seem right.  I'm all for maintaining populations of beneficial and predator insects.  I'd rather they be homegrown, that's all.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

And The Garden Falls Beautifully Into Disrepair

I love how lettuce looks good even when you completely ignore it for weeks at a time.  And how the purple oxalis creeps in to offer such a nice purple contrast.

Wordless Wednesday

Eggs With Leftovers

Recently a friend gave me a dozen fresh eggs, courtesy of her backyard hens.  After sharing them with my coworker, I took home six and improvised a great dinner of fresh eggs with leftovers.  It's based on a recipe I saw years ago, now lost.  I wish I could remember more about that original recipe -- kudos to the long-forgotten cook -- but suffice it to say that my version had its origins in a cooking magazine.

This recipe serves 2 hungry adults and 1 finicky kid, or 2 hungry adults only, which is about the same amount.

6 eggs
2-3 tablespoons milk
salt and pepper
half an onion, thinly sliced
half a red bell pepper, thinly sliced
a quantity of cooking oil
about a quarter-pound each of cooked ham and cooked chicken
cooked French fries, enough to mix in the eggs and serve on the side (try sweet potato fries!)

The ingredients

Beat the eggs lightly with the milk, salt and pepper in a medium bowl and set aside.  Warm the oil in the skillet over medium heat and sauté the onions or about 8 minutes, or until lightly browned.  Add the red bell peppers and cook until softened, about 5 more minutes.  Mix in the chicken and ham and stir until heated through.

In the skillet

Now mix in the eggs and cook until almost set.  Then mix in some of the French fries, reserving most of them for serving alongside the eggs.  Serve with your choice of toppings -- we like fresh salsa!

Ready to eat!

Try this recipe anytime a generous friend gives you yard eggs!  You can substitute freely, using whatever leftovers you have -- this is just what we had on hand.

Once Were Wildflowers

The annual Texas wildflower fever is just beginning around here -- everybody loves wildflowers in March.  It's kind of surprising that they do, to tell the truth.  After all, most wildflowers have a rather weedy appearance close up.  Our very favorite one, the Texas Bluebonnet, has a very short bloom cycle.  As a group, they're fairly unreliable: sometimes we have a banner year, and sometimes, depending on the rain, we get nothing at all.

What interests me is how we got from wildflowers to garden flowers.  I enjoy reading about the dedicated plant breeders who carry on improving our species plants until we can barely recognize them.  Even more interesting?  Reading about how genetic researchers use plant DNA to track human migrations, based on the plants (and pollens and seeds) they carried with them. 

I like to think about those people who long ago were entranced by the subtle beauty of a native wildflower. What it must have been like to live in a world where all flowers were wildflowers!  It seems incredible that we ended up here, in a world in which woodland plants bloom in the full sun, scentless roses flower 12 months long, and our wildflowers have morphed into bedding color.  And a little sad, really, that we only appreciate seasonality, subtlety and brevity in March.  After that?  We move on to evergreen, everblooming, dwarfing sameness.