Going on a grub worm hunt

Grub worms are the bane of any lawn. Around my lawn--and in my flowerbeds--they're ubiquitous. All I usually have to do to find one is dig a hole for a new plant.

Since this isn't the season for sprucing up my high-temperature-devasted flowerbeds, why would I be hunting for grub worms?

The answer is simple: we have an armadillo and it is time he went away. I'm going trapping and I need bait.

I first noticed a disturbance in my front flowerbeds about two-three weeks ago. There were holes and they weren't cat-potty holes. An armadillo was after my tulip and daffodil bulbs and if the number of holes are any indication, I will not have any bulbs left from last spring to enhance my next spring. I usually replant the tulips anyway, but I have (had?) so many daffodils. Hundreds. Really.

Obviously, I needed to do something about Mr. Armadillo, so I used my late neighbor's old wives' tale cure-all: blood meal. I sprinkled it liberally around the area and all seemed to be well until it wore off and there were holes again. More blood meal and this time it wasn't a week before there were more holes. Someone must have developed an immunity to it. Except now, instead of merely being in the flowerbeds, he'd branched out to the front lawn. It looked like a divot-pocked golf green. (Except the 60+ days of over 100 degrees have pretty well taken care of most green in our lawn, no matter the sprinkler system.)

I concluded that he'd eaten all my bulbs and was now after the grubs. Not that we mind him getting the grubs. It would have been nice for him to start there instead of the easy pickings of the flowerbeds. It would have been nicer had he covered up his holes. Good golfers repair their divots.

Despite my spouse's sympathy ("He's hungry and thirsty."), something has to be done. Perhaps he thinks all this grub-hunting is aeration?

So I went to dig grubs in the back yard where the armadillo, I think, cannot get in.

There weren't any that I could find. Instead I stumbled upon some bulbs and I hate to admit it, but that's what I've baited the trap with. My good bulbs.

He'd better be hungry and he'd better be there tonight!