Attack of the Killer Tomato Worms

Tom has taken our garden very seriously this year. Even with the oppressive heat and drought, he’s worked hard to coax the tomatoes, beans, peppers, zucchini, corn and cucumbers to fruition, watering them regularly, weeding the rows so that the weeks aren’t taking precious water from the vegetable plants. The raspberries and strawberries also take quite a bit of his time as he works hard to get them established so they’ll provide sweet treats for years to come.

He’s also been faithfully caring for the twenty-two trees (twenty willows, an apple and a maple) we planted back in May. He even drags the hose around to the front of the house to shower the petunias, morning glories and begonias with water and love.

He’s not sure he cares much about the little peppermint plant I put in a triangle of soil between the retaining wall and the morning glory trellis but he’s watered that too just because he’s sweet like that.

Last Saturday he came in looking both disgusted and frustrated all at once. He declared that between Friday afternoon when he’d watered the tomatoes and Saturday evening, tomato worms had managed to organize an attack. They’d eaten the tops off almost all of our Roma tomato plants.

Let me stop right here to say, “Ewww.” And, “Ick!” Because anything having to do with worms, be they tomato worms (don’t google them, they’re that gross. Seriously, just don’t.) or earth worms just squicks me right out.

Tom suggested that we all go out and hunt the worms down. He explained that the girls and I have better eyes than he does and so we could spot them and he’d pick them off and squish them.

After shuddering violently for several minutes, I replied, “Uh, no. Not going to happen.” See that paragraph above where I cannot deal with anything wormy. Seriously, it is grosser than I can even explain.

I just can’t even look at the nasty beasts. They’re just…grody. Ugh!! Tom was slightly disgusted by my response until I reminded him that I once had a panic attack because an earth worm touched my toe. It was my big toe on my right foot. It was horrible.

In the end, he went out by himself and picked off and squished about fifteen worms by the time we left for a family reunion on Sunday morning. As we reunited with family that day, Tom was recounting his battle with the tomato worms to his brother and nephews. The nephews suggested that Tom save the worms for fish bait. Again, ick and eww and shudder.

So began the harvesting of tomato worms into a bucket to be fed to fish.

It’s all so disgusting and nasty and…well, I guess ‘country.’

Though on the bright side, I can still say that I have yet to actually have to see one of the horrible things. I know where the bucket is and I avoid it like I’d avoid anything that contains worms.