Of course you realize, this means war.
Mar. 31st, 2003 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsI found an ant on the kitchen counter. The war has begun.
It has been like this the past two years. Winter ends. The colonies living deep under our foundation begin their slow, merciless crawl up the sides of the building. They seek out cracks and crevices, willfully sacrificing their bodies in a search pattern honed by millions of years of evolution into some sort of platonic ideal, until they find the weak spot in our armor, the chink, the fissure where, somehow, someway, a sliver of insulation has given way, a nail has loosened from the cycle of winter cold and inner heat, a slat in the door frame has warped under the relentless rain that is the true soul of Seattle and its environs.
And then one of these little black biological robots with its precision sugar and fat detectors waving zig-zags through my kitchen around midnight. It finds something-- maybe the chocolate chips, maybe the cat's dish, maybe a hole in one of the plastic bags where we store the bread-- and it's gone, finding its zig-zagging way back, following the trail its left. An hour passes, and then an army follows that trail the other way. As the army progresses, some ants take shortcuts. Corners soften. The trail straightens. By the time the sun rises it is an efficient fire brigade, thousands of them trekking a few yards-- the ant equivalent of miles-- to carry back to the hive morsels for the queen. Each one as completely expendable as a blood cell. An ant is not an organism-- it is merely a component. The hive is the organism. The hive is what eats, what breaths, what reproduces. Each ant is merely a tiny body part to that end, and ultimately, the hive's only waste product.
The slaughter begins. It starts with a vacuum cleaner, sucking up the hapless creatures on their blind quest. They cannot know the great time is coming when their exoskeletons shall be shattered like so many cryogenic roses. It happens so fast the chemical warning-- SCATTER!-- cannot propagate down the line. And then, the poison at the point of entry, followed by a line of caulk or injection insulation to keep them away.
And then we wait for the next sign. The next travail. Where will it come? Under the insulation where house meets foundation and into the pantry? Up the stairs completely and into the kitchen? Through the glass doors by the dining room, or through the window in the kitchen? They have even come in through the fireplace and across the carpeted living room floor.
And we seek the scouts. Every one. And squash them flat without remorse. Because the consequences of not doing so are annoying.
It's Monday, but we've used up our budget for March so I have to feed Kouryou-chan with what we've got in the house. Of course, I have onions, and garlic, and, way cool, fresh basil. Too much fresh basil, and there are no plans for it according to the family's weekly menu. There was a ton of penne in the pantry. More than enough to make a decent dinner. Most excellent. Kouryou-chan is being wonderful today, actually, although she's again found the coin jar and scattered coins everywhere.
We had ice cream afterwards. She wanted to watch Dumbo. Fair enough. Gives me time to update my LJ, write a few lines. I'm happy. The kid is happy. Life should be like this more often.
India Tracy, a 14 year old self-describe neopagan in Tennessee, is suing her school, claiming religious discrimination. The complaint alleges that India was regularly the target of assault by fellow students, that despite an anti-graffiti policy the school did nothing to remove the Christian propoganda painted on her individual locker, that she was forced to read the Bible and attend lectures in how it was her only way to save herself, that we she was told to "keep quiet" when she wrote a paper about religious tolerance, and that a bus driver persistently asked her when she was going to go to church. An excellent site for keeping abreast of stuff like this is The Human Rights of Children and Students blog.
It has been like this the past two years. Winter ends. The colonies living deep under our foundation begin their slow, merciless crawl up the sides of the building. They seek out cracks and crevices, willfully sacrificing their bodies in a search pattern honed by millions of years of evolution into some sort of platonic ideal, until they find the weak spot in our armor, the chink, the fissure where, somehow, someway, a sliver of insulation has given way, a nail has loosened from the cycle of winter cold and inner heat, a slat in the door frame has warped under the relentless rain that is the true soul of Seattle and its environs.
And then one of these little black biological robots with its precision sugar and fat detectors waving zig-zags through my kitchen around midnight. It finds something-- maybe the chocolate chips, maybe the cat's dish, maybe a hole in one of the plastic bags where we store the bread-- and it's gone, finding its zig-zagging way back, following the trail its left. An hour passes, and then an army follows that trail the other way. As the army progresses, some ants take shortcuts. Corners soften. The trail straightens. By the time the sun rises it is an efficient fire brigade, thousands of them trekking a few yards-- the ant equivalent of miles-- to carry back to the hive morsels for the queen. Each one as completely expendable as a blood cell. An ant is not an organism-- it is merely a component. The hive is the organism. The hive is what eats, what breaths, what reproduces. Each ant is merely a tiny body part to that end, and ultimately, the hive's only waste product.
The slaughter begins. It starts with a vacuum cleaner, sucking up the hapless creatures on their blind quest. They cannot know the great time is coming when their exoskeletons shall be shattered like so many cryogenic roses. It happens so fast the chemical warning-- SCATTER!-- cannot propagate down the line. And then, the poison at the point of entry, followed by a line of caulk or injection insulation to keep them away.
And then we wait for the next sign. The next travail. Where will it come? Under the insulation where house meets foundation and into the pantry? Up the stairs completely and into the kitchen? Through the glass doors by the dining room, or through the window in the kitchen? They have even come in through the fireplace and across the carpeted living room floor.
And we seek the scouts. Every one. And squash them flat without remorse. Because the consequences of not doing so are annoying.
It's Monday, but we've used up our budget for March so I have to feed Kouryou-chan with what we've got in the house. Of course, I have onions, and garlic, and, way cool, fresh basil. Too much fresh basil, and there are no plans for it according to the family's weekly menu. There was a ton of penne in the pantry. More than enough to make a decent dinner. Most excellent. Kouryou-chan is being wonderful today, actually, although she's again found the coin jar and scattered coins everywhere.
We had ice cream afterwards. She wanted to watch Dumbo. Fair enough. Gives me time to update my LJ, write a few lines. I'm happy. The kid is happy. Life should be like this more often.
India Tracy, a 14 year old self-describe neopagan in Tennessee, is suing her school, claiming religious discrimination. The complaint alleges that India was regularly the target of assault by fellow students, that despite an anti-graffiti policy the school did nothing to remove the Christian propoganda painted on her individual locker, that she was forced to read the Bible and attend lectures in how it was her only way to save herself, that we she was told to "keep quiet" when she wrote a paper about religious tolerance, and that a bus driver persistently asked her when she was going to go to church. An excellent site for keeping abreast of stuff like this is The Human Rights of Children and Students blog.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Ant repellant
Date: 2003-04-01 06:02 am (UTC)If you're going to spray ant poison, spray every baseboard you have. Spray inside and outside the house, too. If you miss a spot, that's where they'll come in!
~Cougrr, who gets ants in springtime too.