Anyone who really knows me knows I hate ants...HATE them. I think it all started when I would work at Outdoor School and we would have those big black carpenter ants (I've never seen them do carpentry) that would sometimes end up in my sleeping bag.
I hate them.
I'm not scared of them. I don't even have a problem with them outside. When they're in my house I get enraged.
A few weeks back the little ants showed up in our kitchen. Not too many, but enough to have started a sparse line back and forth. I bought some traps and some Raid. I let the traps sit overnight and the next morning they were still pretty much walking around the traps.
So, lemon-scented raid to the rescue. Fin.
Yesterday I left the house around 6:15 pm. When I came home the neighbors had cooked fish. I could tell because the back stairway smelled heavily of cooked fish. Apparently this smell attracts ants. Apparently the ants thought it was coming from our kitchen. They were ALL OVER the counter, sink, and stove. No time for traps.
Raid to the rescue. Today, no sign of them. I laid waste to them and Deanna was kind enough to clean up the battlefield this morning before I had a chance.
I understand their "job" in the world and the good they do for airating (sp?) the soil...but there is no soil in my second floor apartment...only death.
If you're reading this and you're an ant, spread the word.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
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