It had been a wet season. Not only was Theodore’s driveway slippery with moss, but the roof of his house and guttering had sprouted lichen. There was only one thing for it: he had to spray.
The problem was that his water supply was rain water. He lived in the country and it was the roof that filled the water tank. There were two pipes flowing from the guttering to the water tank. Theodore disconnected them and safely sprayed. After a week or so and several heavy rains it would be safe enough to reconnect the pipes.
What Theodore didn’t know was that there was a third pipe. Unbeknown to him the spray had run into the tank.
Theodore got an upset tummy. He felt increasingly sick throughout the week. He went to the doctor.
“Ah!” said the doctor, “a simple case of stomach flu.” He gave Theodore some pills and said “Avoid dehydration. Drink lots of water.”
Esther was beside herself with excitement. Her garden had been chosen by a panel of judges to be one of only fourteen gardens in the city included in the Annual Organic Garden Tour. One of only fourteen!
The Annual Organic Garden Tour was staged every early summer. Entry to each garden was by gold coin. Esther had all of spring to prepare. She had planted all sorts of spectacular things. What a picture they were going to be! At present they were just beginning to poke their heads above the earth. Welcome to the world, O hundreds of plants!
If there was one thing that riled Esther it was her gravel driveway. It was full of weeds.
“Look,” she said to her husband Darren, “they might want organic gardens but the weeds in the gravel are a shocking sight. Can you get up early, before anyone is about, and under cover of darkness spray with weed killer? If we’re careful no one will know it’s not organic.”
“I’ve done it!” declared Darren one morning. “Those weeds will frizzle up and die. While I was at it, I sprayed all those weeds in the gardens as well. That should save you a lot of time.”
Christobelle had a thing for the environment. She was as green as they come. She ate only that which was organically grown. No meat of course; and in fact not even a life-giving chicken’s egg. No insect would be purposely crushed beneath her shoe. Her porch was riddled with spiders spared by Christobelle.
She was therefore considerably dismayed when it was discovered the apples her generous neighbour had allowed her to pick for the past six years, had been sprayed each year. Sprayed! Apparently to kill some moth caterpillar. These people ate cows and sheep and pigs. Why on earth would they fuss about sinking their teeth into a little creepy-crawly? And the thought of poison having entered her body annually for the past six years filled Christobelle with stenchful repulsion. She felt quite ill. What are they taught in school these days? What happened to Nature Study as a subject?
Two nights after this discovery, Christobelle went out and sprayed insect repellent into her neighbour’s thirteen beehives. That should teach him a lesson.
What a go-ahead suburb Greenqueen was! For years they had cared about the environment. The streets were lined with gardens and hanging baskets. No artificial sprays used here. The council had stipulated: all was to be clean and green in Greenqueen.
And then disaster struck. There was an ant plague. Every garden, every hanging basket, every lamp post, every shop door, was alive with ants. Something had to be done.
A pest control firm was contacted. Could you come in plain clothes, in plain vehicles, in the middle of the night, and surreptitiously spray the streets with ant-killing spray?
They did that, and no one complained because no one knew.
Unfortunately, with the lack of labels everything was mistakenly sprayed with weed-killer.