Hate Ants, Love My Friends

Yes, ant season has started again. Little suckers get a break today. It’s raining so I can’t spray the hell out of the foundation of my house like I normally do to rid myself of the pesky nuisances. Oh, it’s not a total invasion. I’ve only found half a dozen of the teeny tiny brown ones but that’s six too many in my book. Ants belong outside. Period. End of discussion. I don’t go out and mess around in their hills. They can damn well stay out of my house. It’s going to be nice tomorrow and I’ve warned them. If they want to live they will vacate the premises instantly. Otherwise I’m declaring all out war and I’ve had years of experience so they don’t stand a chance.

On a much happier note I had dinner with my adopted family last night. Neeley was in town for a few hours so she called and told me they were on the way to get me, destination to be determined en route. Riley is just back from her visit with the Middle Child, still on her big adventure in France, and I hadn’t seen her yet to hear all about her trip. Guess what! I got presents. A bright yellow Tour de France T-shirt and Milka bars. She knows me so well. The Little One wasn’t with them but that’s okay. I hung out with her the other night when my phone wasn’t working, something I might have to do again soon simply because she makes me laugh. And the Paternal One, well, he’s so kind, putting up with me as he does for the sake of his girls.

Okay, time to get to work here. I’ve been playing far too much lately instead of revising the story I should be working on. I left my characters in limbo because I couldn’t figure out the best way to get them from where they are to where they have to be next. Maybe they’re finally sick enough of just sitting there doing nothing to help today. Let’s hope so.

This Is War!

Not only does springtime signify the beginning of migraine season, in Reading it also marks the start of ant season. Ever year for the twenty years I’ve lived in my house there have always been two weeks around this time of year that the tiny variety of ants think they should dwell inside. No, not all of them, just a random handful. Sorry but to me any ant inside the house is one too many. After all, I don’t poke around in their abodes. They should stay out of mine.

Bixby loves ant season. He’s the great hunter of the house. He stalks relentlessly, often swatting, until finally he traps them beneath his paw. I think he likes the way their squirming tickles. Occasionally I let him play with one but generally I squash them. Bix really hates when I do that. He sits and stares with his sad little cat face.

Yesterday, I came home to find him in full stalk mode. In the living room. Nope, never had ants there before and I am not putting up with it. I don’t care if it’s only for another week they have to go. Since it’s spring and the boys are shedding their winter coats I already vacuum more than once a week. Ants on the carpet, however, are cause to vacuum at least once a day if not twice. Hm yes, twice is much better.

So today, before I left I announced that I was officially declaring war and that all intruders had until I got home at five to vacate the premises. I know, I know, didn’t work since ants aren’t known for following orders issued by humans. On my way home I stopped for both internal bait traps and external perimeter spray. And no, I don’t feel at all bad. They were warned.

And now for something completely different – a question. Ever sit next to one of those incredibly rude individuals whose music you can hear in spite of the fact that they are wearing earphones? I did this morning. If that in itself weren’t bad enough, today’s occurrence including singing. Normally, I’d give my best death glare at that point but the guy was so incapable of carrying a tune it sounded like he was singing an entirely different song. He was so bad I actually felt sorry for him. Not sorry enough to prevent me from laughing openly of course, after which he switched off the music, removed the earphones and pouted at me. There goes my reputation of being the nice one.