AJ Alanson, Author

This is Jeff. What with the college apps, the canning, and getting the 9th Admiral inn book ready to publish, I found myself falling farther and farther behind in the corral garden. Mostly pest control. A few days ago, my husband and I walked through the gate to find everything around the outer ring covered with aphid eggs.

“What?” Chris lamented. “If it’s not squirrels, chipmunks, voles, ground hogs, the raccoon, squash beetles, squash borers, squash bugs, drought, drowning, too hot, too cold, now it’s APHIDS!”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry. I got people.”

I hired Jeff and his crew. They’re migrant workers. Overnight, the aphids were cleaned up around half the ring. By this morning, only two tomato plants were still affected, but rustling.

I took a picture because, as soon at the job is done, Jeff will leave. He won’t let me keep him fulltime, year-round, but dang, I tried. I offered good scratch, enough for him, his family, and even extra he can put back. But no. He said he and his crew get in and get out. The climate up here, the environment, it’s too hostile for his people to remain safe. They risk coming for the money, but would never want to live here.