If you’ve ever tried to garden in South Florida, you know the bugs think you planted everything just for them. And it’s not just the plants—they seem to think Ethan is part of the buffet too. Mosquitoes, beetles, caterpillars, you name it. At one point, I swear I saw a grasshopper giving me a smug little grin while chewing my beans. That was the day I decided we needed a bug plan that didn’t involve chemicals or me losing my mind.
First up: marigolds. They’re the little guards of the garden. Bright, cheerful, and secretly fierce. They keep pests away while looking like sunshine in a flower bed. I tuck them between the tomatoes, and suddenly the whiteflies pack up and leave. It’s like they know they’re not welcome. Ethan likes to pick petals and pretend they’re confetti, which doesn’t help the flowers much, but at least he’s entertained.
Then there’s neem oil. The smell is… let’s say “unique.” Josh calls it “liquid gym socks,” but it works. A light spray keeps leaf-munching bugs off without hurting the good guys, like bees and butterflies. The trick is to spray in the evening so I don’t accidentally mist the pollinators. I learned that after a very angry bee chased me around the yard like it had a personal vendetta.
Mosquitoes are their own nightmare here. I plant lemongrass, basil, and mint close to the porch, and it does help. Not perfect, but better than slathering Ethan in sticky sprays every evening. Plus, I get fresh herbs for dinner, which feels like a win-win. Sometimes I’ll rub a bit of crushed mint on his arms, and he runs around smelling like a mojito.
The real secret weapon, though? Chickens. They gobble up beetles, ticks, and whatever else crawls their way. Watching them scratch around the yard feels like free pest control with feathers. Ethan thinks it’s hilarious when they chase grasshoppers—like a barnyard video game.
We’ll never win the war completely, but with marigolds, stinky sprays, bug-repelling herbs, and our feathered patrol squad, we’re at least holding the line. And honestly, that’s good enough. If the bugs want a few nibbles here and there, fine. But they better remember—they don’t pay rent on this homestead.
