This is the improvised slug and snail transportation pod. Mum goes round her garden with a bucket of hot water but I find myself unwilling to kill stuff just because they are eating my courgette flowers. I need, she says, to get myself a decent torch, which is good advice because at the moment I am borrowing Tish's phone. I had been going out as it was getting dark, around 10pm and not finding very many. Then the other evening I went out a second time a bit later and commented to Monkey that it was as if they knew and were waiting for me to do my slug hunt before emerging. Initially I had just chucked them over the wall into the lane, but as I learned many years ago when we lived at Moor End, slugs have a homing instinct (I trod on the same slug several nights in a row in my bare feet, one of life's less pleasant experiences). I read somewhere that you need to take then more than 20 metres so they don't come back. So I now put them in the ice-cream tub and take them to the park at the end of the road in the morning. They are surprisingly nifty little creatures and will attempt to make a swift exit while you are hunting so you have to keep a close eye.
Stay safe. See you tomorrow.