So there I was last Sunday evening, washing the turnip tops ready for dinner, when I found a snail. Well, it happens. He seemed to have survived 24 hours in the fridge quite happily, and was clearly perking up, so I popped him on my spider plant while I decided what to do with him. And then I found another one ... and another one... and ...
By the time I'd finished I had five of them - and quite honestly had lost most of my desire for turnip tops that night. But what was I going to do with them? Temperatures outside were well below zero, and a quick look at the internet said that snails freeze if they haven't got themselves into a well-protected position before temperatures drop. And whilst one on the balcony chomping away at the plants probably wouldn't have done much harm (they were very small), I wasn't sure I wanted five of them running rampage for the whole winter.
So the snailery was born. A large glass vase covered with clingfilm with airholes punched in. And the five of them - Fred, George, Ron, Bill and Percy - have been happily chomping away on a basil plant, plus various vegetable peelings that I've popped in for them, for the past week.
OK, OK. Like my family you probably now have that expression on your face which says This time she's really flipped - but I am not alone. I have discovered a whole website dedicated to keeping snails as pets...
And oh dear - I find I have to get my act together. I've got to provide them with calcium, cook their carrots and potatoes, stock up with tortoise food in case I get snowed in and can't provide them with fresh greens, make sure they have somewhere to lay their eggs, protect them from mites ...
I'm not entirely sure whether I'm supposed to take them for regular walks - but I suppose come spring a few excursions on the balcony might be in order...
