In Missouri, 2017 should be put on the calendar as the year of the Japanese beetles. Sure, we had some last year and they were a nuisance, but this year they are a plague of biblical proportions.
These voracious bugs started on our grapevine—just like last year—then they moved on to the wild roses, blackberry bush, returned to destroy the apple tree and all the apples on it, attacked the yard trees making them look like autumn instead of summer.
It’s a dilemma how to battle beetles. The traps attract more, and it certainly was tedious to pick them off and throw them in soapy water. That might work if you had a scattering of beetles, but when they congregate in huge clusters and there are thousands of them, picking seems like an exercise in futility.
So we sprayed a little Seven on them, but mostly we hoped they would move along like they did last year. But oh, no! They were way cockier than last year. One morning while relaxing with my cup of coffee on the deck, I was horrified to see our rose of Sharon bush covered with the foliage eating monsters. “Okay, they have gone too far!” I told Harold.
I used the remainder of the spray he had mixed, and although it killed hundreds, it seemed that a legion was moving along the front line of the battle to kill the bush. Harold got serious and bombarded the tree with spray. That seemed to do the trick. We had chosen our battle and although they haven’t left entirely, the remaining beetles lost interest in the bush.
As a person who is often out of sync with the opinions of those who surround me, I’ve found that choosing battles has become more important than ever. It isn’t always easy for an outspoken, opinionated woman to do that, especially when so many have lost their sense of civility and respect for their fellow humans.
Choosing battles became an integral part of caregiving. When Jim was in long-term care, I could count on some residents’ family members charging into the memory unit just spoiling for battle. Nothing was ever done to their satisfaction. Complain, complain, complain. I might mention that the biggest complainers were the ones who seldom visited their family member. Too often, it seemed that since they felt guilty, they wanted to belittle the aides and nurses that tended to the residents.
When these same people saw me feeding, bathing, or providing extra care for Jim, they would say, “You shouldn’t be doing that!You are paying to have that done.” In the first place (a) it really wasn’t any of their concern what I wanted to do for my husband, and (b) I saw how overworked and unappreciated the aides were.
There were two kinds of aides: the ones that needed a job so desperately they were willing to try anything, and the majority who had a caring nature and whose job was less of a job and more a “calling.” The people who stayed were not working solely for a paycheck.
Abuse and neglect of your loved one should not be tolerated. Show up for care planning and provide helpful input. Rather than ranting at the unfortunate person who happens to be nearby, rational conversation with the person in charge is much more effective.
In life, we need to choose our battles. Instead of waging war against fellow human beings, negotiation may be the key to settling problems.
On the other hand, an all-out battle against Japanese beetles is not only totally acceptable, it may be the only way to save your yard.
Copyright © July 2017 by L.S. Fisherhttp://earlyonset.blogspot.com