Ladybug, Ladybug, where have you gone?

One of the things I've encountered in my 8+ years of living in the Pacific Northwest that I never saw before was the fact that you can go to your avergage garden store and actually buy packages of ladybugs (and praying mantises, too). They come in this mesh bag, about a thousand of them, all antennae and legs a-squirmin'. It is truly a sight to behold, and one that really plays with your mind. Because, hey, they're ladydbugs, the friendly bug - the one that it's nearly a mortal sin to kill when you're a kid, because they EAT BAD BUGS. But, at the same time, nearly a thousand of the little, well, buggers, can be a bit intimidating.

Once, while hiking with Troy somewhere in the Angeles Crest forest, we came across a ladybug hatching ground, for lack of a better term. There must've been millions of them - so many, in fact, that I'm probably doomed to at least a hundred years in bug purgatory for the number of ladybugs I inadvertently squashed trying to make it across the trail. Again, it was a sight to behold - literally a carpet of the gardener's friend, but the fear kept creeping up the back of my lower reptilian brain, some ancient, secret fear of things that fly and buzz and have four too many legs.

So, anyway, back to where we were. The first time I bought a package of ladybugs was about three years ago. I'd read all about their ravenous appetite for aphids, and, facing an aphid infestation on my newly-planted climbing roses, decided to give nature a try at wiping them out.

Trouble is, I had forgotten that I'd given the Dow Chemical Company a chance to wipe them out a week earlier.

Anyone know what a "systemic" poison does? I didn't; I found out, somewhat graphically, a few minutes later. See, a systemic poison gets into the fibers of whatever plant you put it on, causing the plant itself to become poisonous to the bugs. So, aphids on a rose bush plus systemic poison treatment equals dead aphids.

The equation works out the same if you substitute "ladybugs" for "aphids" in the above statement.

I sallied forth into the backyard with my ladybug army in tow, my little warriors ready to do deadly battle with the dreaded aphid enemy.

I carefully cut open the bag, and began to disperse the little guys, airborne-style.

I kid you not - these ladybugs would hit those poison-drenched leaves, and literally fall off them, dead. Following the instructions on the bag, I was dispersing my ladybug armada at dusk, so I didn't notice right away...

...but it became readily apparent, as I finished emptying the bag, as I heard the little pitter-patter of ladybug bodies bouncing off the leaves and falling to the ground below, that I'd sentenced my red-winged soldiers to an untimely death.

In one fell swoop, I'd decimated nearly an entire bag of ladybugs.

Needless to say, I waited a while before buying more.

The time came this weekend, when I had stopped by the garden center at our local Fred Meyer's, that I saw the familiar yellow mesh bag with its creepy crawly cargo. Having sworn off systemic poisons as bad for the environment (not to mention hell on ladybugs), I decided to buy another bag of them. I brought them home, and Katrina and I again followed the instructions, releasing them at dusk over our flower garden next to the driveway.

That was Saturday night. This afternoon, I stood for a full five minutes, surveying the flower garden, and nary a ladybug was to be found.

Then it hit me.

They're frickin' bugs.

With wings.

And they all flew away.