Kill or be disappointed

Several months ago, we noticed with alarm that two of our pine trees had acquired guests. These were not the sort of guests you want on a tree. These were, in fact, the kind of guests whose visit is often terminal for the host. We had processionaries.

The processionary moth’s precursor is a known pest around these parts. Whole pine forests can perish if hit by a processionary invasion. That’s why forest authorities regularly spray said forests.

They sprayed last summer, too. Only they either didn’t spray everywhere or they didn’t spray enough. Because by December, the pine forest above our house and our pines were in full deadly bloom.

When we saw the first white skein (that’s how they’re called here because they do look like a bundle of wool or yarn) our collective heart sank. Cat began making designs for wings that she could use to fly down to the trees from a handy plane and cut off the infected branches. Irina said her goodbyes. Cris got to work.

We have four pines in the garden. They were brought from the forest as babies and they took. One is big and luscious and the rest are more modest in appearance but we love them all as we love all our trees. That is why it was with a heavy heart that we made the decision to cut off the tops of the two most infected trees — that’s where the skeins were.

When Cris climbed up the taller one to perform the amputation he made an unpleasant discovery. The biggest, most luscious pine, the star of our pine band, had also been infected. And the skein was right below its top, just like its two unfortunate brothers. To save the tree we had to maim it permanently.

It was at this horrible time that Irina had an epiphany and the name of that epiphany was tobacco. Tobacco contains a lot of toxic ingredients, said the epiphany. Tobacco can kill, it went on. So, why don’t we use some of those leftover cigarettes from pre-electronic times we still keep just in case and put them to good use, killing toxic caterpillars? Fight toxin with toxin.

It took the tobacco of seven cigarettes (better safe than sorry), which we steeped in half a jar of water overnight and then injected into the skein with a huge syringe that drugstores probably stock for vets.

We administered two doses, Cris did not fall off the tree, and we started waiting. Two months later, the pine’s top is as green as healthy as it was before it was visited by the very unwanted guests.

Incidentally, we learned that tobacco is actually quite good for plants, not only as a pesticide but as fertiliser, of all things. And at about 3 euro per pack of cigarettes, it’s quite a bargain, too, not least because you don’t need to worry about disposing of it responsibly. Toxic it may be, but it’s organic.

We recently had to remember the insecticidal properties of tobacco because some life form developed a taste for one of our chrysanthemums. Just the one — the yellow spider. The poor thing was putting out so many shoots they’d turned into a cluster around the old stem. A cluster of shoots with their tops chomped off.

Our reaction?

That’s two cigarettes and it should be enough for one plant. But since we are feeling adventurous and really like the yellow spider, we’re also trying a recipe that Cat found online.

The recipe contains an onion, a couple of garlic cloves and a teaspoon of cayenne pepper. A completely eco-friendly way to eliminate pests, without even killing them, we assume because the idea is that the combined smell and taste of onions, garlic and hot pepper will repel rather than attract and poison the pest. If you think it stinks, you’re right. It’s the sweet stink of victory.

There’s no such thing as complete happiness, alas. But there is the gratification of seeing the enemies of your plants defeated. We now know how cats feel when they win a fight. Or as the Great One put it,

“Cats are like witches. They don’t fight to kill, but to win. There is a difference. There’s no point in killing an opponent. That way, they won’t know they’ve lost, and to be a real winner you have to have an opponent who is beaten and knows it. There’s no triumph over a corpse, but a beaten opponent, who will remain beaten every day of the remainder of their sad and wretched life, is something to treasure.”