Hold the salt

The weather is getting warmer. It rained all of yeasterday. I went to visit my grandma this morning. Her sidewalk was home to this little guy. Slugs remind me of my little sister. I can recall on more than one occasion Les bringing peanut butter jars into the the kitchen filled to the lid with slugs. Small nail holes poked in the plastic provided enough air to make the journey from the backyard to the kitchen and back.
"Oh those are nice," my mom woud say as Les held the jar in her out streched arm to provide a better look for my mom.
" Where did you find so many?"
" In my hide out, " She would say with a smile. Her hide out was conventely located space between the chicken coop and the rabbit pens.
"Please take them back outside," mom always said wide eyed with a smile. Most of the time the slugs made it out of the jar and back under their logs. Les, may the slugs always have a place in your peanut butter jar.