Tanquerey on the rocks with a twist was what I was thinking when I pulled in the driveway after a discouraging in-service on Substance Abuse, Use and Addiction in Southwest Missouri.
Thank God I wasn’t an alcoholic, was what I was thinking when I got out of the car and noticed my husband, RJ, crouched over something in the yard. I picked up my pruners and walked through the herb garden to see what he was doing. I realized what the back stabbing trapper was bending over. “Where did you get that armadillo trap?”
“I thought we conceded to the armadillo.”
“You conceded. I didn’t.”
“Well,” I huffed. “I’m Zen with it.”
My husband laughed. “You’re not Zen with the armadillo. You bitch and moan about him every morning. I’m sick of it. He’s going to die.”
“Is that a gleam in your eye?” I accused as I snipped spent Salvia flowers.
“No, of course not,” the armadillo killer said calmly.
“Good luck <snip>,” I snapped. “Finding any earthworms to use for bait <snip, snip> since the armadillo already ate most of them." <snippety-snip-snip-snip>
“I’m not using earthworms. I’m using marshmallows.”
“Wonderful,” I said. “The only thing you’re going to catch is ants.”
Smug smile. “Armadillos love ants.”
Armadillos love ants? “Maybe that’s why we haven’t had any ants inside the house for weeks. If you kill the armadillo, you could upset the entire ecological balance of our garden.”
“Make up your mind, no ants or no plants.”
“You know I’m going to choose plants. What are you going to do with him when you catch him?”
“Have Rudy shoot him.”
Magnificent. Our 82 year old, trigger happy neighbor was to be the executioner. I whacked at the base of our Artemisia arborescens ‘Powis Castle’ with indignant vigor.
RJ said, “You want the armadillo to go away but you don’t want to get your hands dirty.”
“You got it.” I nodded and headed for the house with the soft, silvery Artemisia in my hands. “The only dirt I want on my hands is dirt.”
RJ noted what I was carrying. “What are you doing with that Wormwood?”(Wormwood is the common name for Artemisia arborescens.)
“Trying a new recipe,” I tossed over my shoulder.
“But the only thing you can make from Wormwood is absinthe.”
“Exactly. I’m going to need something stronger than a martini for my first Armadillo killing.”
“You don’t really know how do to make absinthe, do you?” he asked worriedly.
I didn’t answer. Let him wonder.
Causes Jules Jacob Supports
CASA of Southwest Missouri, Master Gardeners of the Ozarks, University of Missouri Master Gardeners, Missouri Court Appointed Special Advocates Association...