Invasion! Part 1 - June 17, 2012

It has been a miserably hot and dry spring, with almost no rain during the entire month of May nor so far in June.  The fields are dry and brown, parched from day after day of sun, wind, and heat.  Many of the trees have already started to shed their leaves, and the cattle are already eating the one cutting of spring hay that the farmers were able to put up before the rains stopped.  The sign at Farm Bureau says "Pray for Rain."

But in spite of the weather, we've tried to grow a garden. We are blessed to have a rich, productive garden spot that was nurtured obsessively by John Carey, the man who lived on this place when I was a child.  We planted, fertilized, and with an almost continuous rotation of drip watering, the garden began to grow and thrive.  By mid-May, we were starting to enjoy the results of our efforts. Crisp cucumbers, bell peppers, banana peppers, and jalapeno peppers; tender broccoli, squash and green beans; crunchy cabbage...even some delicious, juicy tomatoes.  You just can't buy stuff like this in the store.

Even though it was a bit of a nuisance to drag my PVC watering pipe from row to row, it was nice to see the  results.  I especially enjoyed walking outside in the evenings after the heat of the day eased, looking at the progress of each row.  But all that changed on June 17.

Epicauta vittata, the striped blister beetle.

I had seen a few striped blister beetles, Epicauta vittata (Fabricius) (Coleoptera: Meloidae), in the garden in the days before, but only one or two, here or there.  Nothing to worry about - not like the year before when we found two giant masses of them hiding under some buckets by the well house.  I didn't think much of it.  I didn't even bother to step on them as they scurried past my feet.  So it was a great shock to walk outside that Sunday night to find great clusters of them lined up around the leaves of the okra plants.

Now when I say "clusters" I don't mean a few beetles on each plant.  I mean dozens on each plant. Where earlier that evening I had seen the okra's dark green umbrella-like leaves, I now saw umbrellas that looked like they had been through a hurricane and lost all the fabric.  Nothing was left where the beetles had been, except for the skeletal veins.  I was aghast!  The invaders were back, and it looked like this attack was worse than the one of the previous year.  Much worse.

What could I do?  I didn't remember having anything to put on the plants, and this late on Sunday night all the stores were closed.  But I did have some dish washing detergent.  So armed with a bucket of hot soapy water, a short stick and a flashlight, I began the first battle in what was to turn into an all-out war.  Carefully, I positioned the bucked under the first leaf, then gave the stem a sharp WHACK.  The water frothed as two dozen beetles frantically tried to swim to safety.  I moved the bucket to the second leaf.  WHACK!  A dozen more fell into the water, scrambling onto the lifeless bodies of their fellow intruders, my enemies. Three times, four times, five times - slowly and methodically I moved from leaf to leaf trying to dislodge the beetles.  But now they sensed my presence, and began a hasty retreat.  They clambered down from the okra plants and scurried across the dirt.  They climbed up my legs, and I turned from side to side trying to knock them down with my stick.  I tried to stomp them as they ran.  It was to no avail.  There were just too many.  I couldn't stop them.  They reached the safety of the corn, and I was forced to accept that I had lost this battle.  I knew that the beetles that floated in the bucket were outnumbered 10 to 1 - heaven forbid, I thought, maybe even 100 to 1 - by their comrades that had escaped.

However, what I didn't realize was that the invaders weren't just lurking in my garden.  They were trying to take the house!  Now understand that people who live in new houses probably wouldn't have this problem, but when a house has been standing since 1880, there are cracks and openings where all kinds of "things" can, and often do, sneak through.  Drawn by the light over the washing machine, the beetles found every crack and every opening.  They hung from the bathroom ceiling, they crawled up the edge of the door, and they crowded around the light switch and electrical outlets.  Even worse some had managed to find their way into the bedrooms.  There was one on the pillow, another crawling up the sheet, another hanging on the wall over the bed - how would we ever be able to sleep without crushing one against our skin?

Thankfully, the home invasion was easier to fight.  I traded the bucket and the stick for my faithful "three-legged" ShopVac.  One by one, the beetles lost their grip and whooshed! through the hose into the canister.   After about 30 minutes of vacuuming the bathroom, the porch, the bedrooms, and the outside of the window, there was a lull in the battle.  Weary, I put down my weapons, and tried to get some rest.

The real battles were yet to come.