My ant stopped by with friends. She’s a pest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before you get all worked up over the spelling of ant, go back to memorizing your Chicago Manual of Style\u2014I have no aunts in the area.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s been a summer for ants on the Jagged Edge, and it was dry for a spell. I thought I had won the war, using a bit of peppermint and some white vinegar and keeping all the food closed up tightly, but still, I captured and killed a couple per day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For <\/a>some reason, being withheld from me, they gathered together last night, waiting for me to get up. And, yup, they are carpenters\u2014several wore tool belts. They’d only just begun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There were a few in the bathroom near the shower and about fifty reinforcements waiting at the transition between the porch and the tiny sitting area where I do most of my writing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I turned the light out to avoid upsetting them, rummaging through the various cans of wasp spray, ant traps, bug repellent, and sunscreen in a basket on the fridge. There was nothing to kill ants immediately, so I’m going to town again today before I head home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can’t leave them here to rearrange the furniture while I am gone, so killing it is\u2014 them or me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I did what any intuitive victim would do; I grabbed the spray bottle of Windex.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I snuck up to the pods and got to them before they could pass around weapons and receive marching orders from the bigger ants. I sprayed them down. I know that the ammonia in Windex kills mosquitoes in the air, but I’d never employed the spray-and-pray method on ants. Some were uncles, but I didn’t have time to ask them for identification. It didn’t kill them immediately, but I can assure you that it slowed them down enough that I could find my shoes and do an ant dance on their heaving corpses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I killed over one hundred, and I’d never seen these numbers in a daytime raid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While it was still dark, I reconnoitered the camp from the outside, looking for escapees so I could mark their path of retreat and subsequent return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Internet advisors find solace in writing that you can always find their path by looking outside for a line of ants coming and going\u2014don’t trust them. That’s not how it works. They are reading what other Internet advisors wrote before them, regurgitating the pablum so that you feel like you received adequate advice; You didn’t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yes, it was true in Looney Tunes, but not in real life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am crawling under today after replenishing the Windex or finding something better. I’m kidding. I know that the ant-repellent pellets I often sprinkle around the edge of the property were old and probably lost their luster (read luster as the ability to kill), but waste not, want not. I will buy a fresh bag, probably some spray, and possibly an ant suit to infiltrate the intelligence network; I watched “Hogan’s Heroes.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Woods surround me, trees alive and dead. Deadfalls are common, and there are plenty of places for them to live in harmony with me. I leave them alone when they remain in the hills, and it’s unclear why they selected last night for a raid of this magnitude. They probably knew I was alone. There have been no tattletale signs of sawdust, so these rascals came for food and water, showing up just before the rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The good news is that I have easy access to all the underpinnings of the camp. Sure, it was easier when I was young, thin, and full of promise, but I can still crawl on my belly to get a command (See quotes from “Patton” starring George C. Scott to understand some of these references). This is a war, after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lessons learned\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Windex slows them down, Merrell hikers kill them, and Ellie is absolutely useless, sleeping through all of it until I grab the vacuum to pick up the dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My Uncle Alan and my father used to joke around together, saying things to each other that made them laugh. They both had infectious laughs and we kids relished being around all my uncles, who were funny men.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In about 1970, while watching a ball game, my dad said to Uncle Alan, “Hey, Alan, can you see that ant over there on the baseboard?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alan said, “No, Art, but I can hear him walking.” They both cracked up, laughing in a way that made everyone around them do the same. It’s a ridiculous premise, but it’s hilarious at the same time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That came to me this morning as I picked up rugs, couches, tables, and chairs to ensure no hidden squads.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I laughed; that’s an excellent way to perk up in the morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From the Jagged Edge of America, I can hear them walking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Be well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

TC<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I laughed; that’s an excellent way to perk up in the morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From the Jagged Edge of America, I remain,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

TC<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And, Dad, if you read this stuff, I can hear them walking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*Thanks for supporting my writing through BuyMeACoffee. I appreciate all of you for reading the stuff tc<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My ant stopped by with friends. She’s a pest. Before you get all worked up over the spelling of ant, go back to memorizing your Chicago Manual of Style\u2014I have no aunts in the area. It’s been a summer for ants on the Jagged Edge, and it was dry for a spell. I thought I…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"pgc_meta":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[17,19],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-77757","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog-posts","category-home-posts"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/77757","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=77757"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/77757\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=77757"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=77757"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.timcottonwrites.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=77757"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}