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Wednesday, December 17, 2008


Whitefly are teeny weeny little white flying bugs that feed on plant sap. They look like nothing at all - small, white and innocent, but let me tell you that they have killed many of my plants. One adult whitefly lays about 300 hundred eggs, ALL of which hatch into hungry little wingless "nothings-at-all". For the plant it's like death from a thousand cuts.

Whitefly are little plant vampires. They swarm about their host and suck it dry of plant sap. It doesn't matter that you're a tall and majestic clump of bamboo. They'll still get you and draw the life sap outta you, slowly and hungrily. First, your leaves will dry up and look anaemic. Then, your leaves will drop. And as each whitefly feeds and lays more eggs on you, you will begin to look like you're covered in little white bumps. Each white bump a little whitefly baby suckling at your plant juice mercilessly. Then, you will die. When you do, the swarms of whitefly that lived off the last of your blood sap fly off to find another host.

I hate them little whiteflies and their babies!

I have declared war on them. I hunt down the little white guerrillas relentlessly with my spray gun filled with oil+soap+water mix. I examine the underleaf of every beloved plant for evidence of eggs and hungry whitefly babies. Anything that looks even remotely like a whitefly something gets thoroughly sprayed with the mix. The oily film sprayed on their bodies suffocates them and they die a horrifying whitefly death. I even mix up pails of tobacco tea and feed it to my plants so that any whitefly that sucks on their sap kicks the bucket from nicotine high. Better them than my plants, I say. But I never use tobacco tea with edibles because nicotine in high doses also kills humans!

I've been at war for months. I thought it would be quick victory with my air power (spray gun) my chemical weapons (nicotine tea), but these adversaries are still around. I cannot let my guard down, nor can I withdraw troops. Any slight lapses in my attention, and they gain ground on me. So onwards I march with my trusty spray gun, and by now, the people at 7 Eleven think that I am nicotine addict smoking 5 bags of tobacco leaves every week.

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