Yesterday was a dumb day. I had all that confusion and drama with my seedlings. I had to do this massive recategorization of my seeds (I can’t even get into that, but basically I did a terrible job with storage and labeling because I didn’t realize I would become this person). There was too much car drama for a Friday, and I was generally annoyed by drivers because I don’t drive much anymore (yay unemployment?) and being on highways reminds me exactly why I don’t want to commute to an office ever again.
Anyway, that was my day.
This morning I got up early, looked at my to‑do list, watched the news and the sunrise with my coffee, and watered the plants before it was bright and hot enough to break a sweat. And that was it. That was my outdoor plant stuff for the day.
A few hours later, my husband and I were sitting outside and he said, “What is that?” while pointing to the Giant Marconi. I have bad eyesight, but even from five feet away I could tell there was some weird white stuff on the tops of the leaves. When I looked closer, it looked like tiny white cotton balls scattered across the leaf tops and leaf joints on a couple of the upper leaves.
And that’s when my peaceful Saturday morning turned into a full‑scale pepper inspection.
I walked over to the plant, squinted at the top leaves, and immediately regretted having eyes. The “white cotton balls” weren’t cotton. They were mealybugs – actual pests, lounging on my pepper like they were waiting for room service.
Once I saw those, everything else came into focus. Suddenly I was spotting tiny orange and brown bumps stuck to the undersides of leaves. Scale insects, maybe? Whatever they were, they were doing an excellent job pretending to be part of the plant. Then I found baby hornworms, neon green and smug, tucked under the leaves like they were planning a coup. And scattered around were these random pearlescent dots that looked suspicious until I realized they were just water blisters. My peppers apparently get stress acne now. Great.
But the worst moment – the one that made me question my life choices – was finding a tight little translucent cluster wedged into a leaf joint near a flower. I clipped the leaf, pressed it between my fingers, and it popped. I don’t have the vocabulary to describe the sensation. I simply left my body for a second. That was a mealybug egg sac, and I will be thinking about it for the rest of my life.
So, I spent my Saturday morning manually removing pests like a tired Victorian governess. I wiped off mealybugs and scale with soapy water. I picked off hornworms one by one. I sprayed the tops and undersides of leaves. I broke up ant trails with cinnamon because apparently that’s a thing now. And through all of this, I tried not to disturb the lacewing eggs—the tiny white dots perched on delicate stalks. Those little things eventually hatch into larvae that eat garden pests, so I was trying very hard not to accidentally murder my reinforcements. So, I’m out here running a rescue mission and a daycare at the same time.
By noon, I had watered the plants at sunrise, identified half the cast of A Bug’s Life, committed several acts of pest removal, and questioned my sanity more than once. It’s Saturday. I’m tired. And apparently this is what gardening is now.
If you’re wondering why all of this seemed to happen at once, welcome to Central Texas in August. The plants are dealing with relentless heat, unpredictable moisture, and whatever fresh nonsense the weather has planned. Meanwhile, the insects are apparently having the time of their lives. Some are pests, some are predators, and I’m still learning who’s who. The good news? Beneficial insects were showing up, too, including those lovely little lacewing eggs perched on their delicate stalks. If you’re curious about how all these creatures fit into the bigger picture, check out Bugs, Pollinators & Ecosystems – it covers the beneficial insects, pollinators, pests, and backyard relationships that make up the tiny ecosystem happening around the garden.