Dearest Daughter has asked me to point out that she does not have a
mild phobia of snails, she absolutely
detests them. She is now officially on strike from dishwasher duty until I remove the shells from the kitchen.
Littlest said he didn't want to eat his breakfast where he could see them.
Huh!
I will not compromise my scientific integrity, or insatiable curiosity! It could be worse, there could be live ones in the batch, and I did make sure that I shook most of the woodlice and earwigs out of the shells before I brought them in...
I pointed this out to DD this morning, and she ran out of the room squeaking. Honestly! Kids nowadays...
Today I plan on going on another snail hunt, but this time it will be for Zonitidae. I have purchased a little ruler, for the vast sum of 35p to get some scale in to my shots, but I won't go as far as dismantling the Victorian cast iron drainpipe, or uprooting bestrawed Frenchmen in my shrubbery just yet. I might consider manufacturing an elongated bottle brush type thing though, if I really want to count how many gastropods live in the drainpipe high rise. At the very least, it should afford my neighbours some amusement.
Jo
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The snails made me do it....