Side note: My grandparents yard is full of snails. You have no idea how many snails. In the summer time, especially after a rain storm (like we had yesterday), it's like a plague of snails only it's not like crickets, and there aren't any seagulls to come and eat them all up.
Side note deux: My grandmother was fearless. She would capture snakes, pull legs off off of spiders, pick up dead mice and birds, and she killed snails.
Okay, so we headed outside to see how the snail hunt was going. Once in the backyard we saw one of my Aunties bent over a flowerbed with the container of salt. You see in our family, there is nothing humane about a snail therefore it must be dealt with in an inhumane way.
Sorry, PETA. Do you protect snails?
My son declared, "This is a snail invasion!"
My brother grabbed the salt and took it upon himself to annihilate the small snail army gathering in the backyard.
Once all the little suckers seemed to be taken care of we headed to the front. There were dozens more: on the porch, in the flower beds, on the sidewalk and sliming their way through the grass. My brave brother stepped on a couple and the crunch echoed back into the house. They also found a herd of babies who, unfortunately were defeated before they had a chance to eat the garden. Or whatever snails eat.
I once knew a girl from my grandma's neighborhood who lived in France. When visiting her family for the summer, she'd come over to swim. She and my grandma collected snails and she took them home, presumably for dinner. In our family, we don't eat snails. We destory them.
And sometimes, after a good snail hunt, you need a little bit of yoga, just to get centered again.