They Call Me Anty C
6:30 p.m. - 2003-11-10


I should be cooking dinner, but I am in the middle of a battle for the control of my kitchen - me on one side, and the hordes of ants on the other. I came home from work to find them doing their attack across my counter and sink, and I followed them back to their base on the patio. I am not what I would call an eco-freak, because most eco science is a crock, but I fight my ants in a harmless (to me) and interesting manner. First I follow them back to their base, and there I pour dribbles of honey. They immediately give up their pursuit of my home, and cluster around the honey. I like to imagine the little creatures looking skyward and bowing down to the great being in the sky who gives them manna. Then I have to clean up the stragglers. I sweep as many of them as I can out the door and off the porch, then I vacuum them up off the counter, having first washed the vacuum attachment, because we all know where it has been. Then I get some old oil-based flavoring I have in peppermint or clove flavor, and dipping a Q-tip in it, I paint lines across the ant path on the porch and in the house. This confuses the stragglers even more, making them easy pickings. Then I have to take the bag out of the vacuum and leave it on the patio so I can tell myself all the sucked up ants will escape and go home. After that I feed them honey every couple of days until they lose the urge to send out hunting parties, and then I am home free.

Over the weekend we went to Sebastopol and got a huge box of apples, then we came home and he immediately took a prolonged nap. While he was sleeping, I cleaned out the freezer. I mean I really really decimated the contents and now have room for the fish sticks I bought. Ah, fishsticks, favorite food of the antgods. I found all kinds of strange and unlovely substances in the freezer, but I will draw a literary curtain over that ugly scene. Then I made dinner and watched my Japanese shows.

On Sunday morning I was looking in the fridge when I saw the jar of leftover homemade spaghetti sauce, and the wheels turned in my brain. I decided to ask the EGs to lunch, so when we sat next to them at church, he asked them over, and EG looked absolutely delighted to accept. They stayed after church for some youth pastor vote, and we raced to the store and got some Italian bread and fruit sorbet, and raced home again to get lunch on. It turned out really well, with spaghetti, a salad, and bread, with boysenberry and peach sorbets for dessert. I tried out a new Caesar dressing recipe and it was very good. I think I will tweak it a little since I was out of lemons and grabbed a lime instead, but all in all, not bad.

We heard all about their trip, which they enjoyed mightily, and they talked of their plans to go out to Texas when my older daughter graduates from college. I would like to take my vacation at that time and be there at least a week in advance to do lots of Texas sightseeing. Something to look forward to!

Here is the people report from church - Frank was there, looking very well, the Colorado School of Mines family was there, looking not quite so put together as usual (kids will do that to you), and James, the cleavage lady's son, broke both his wrists falling off of something. I was talking to him after church and he was telling me how it happened, and I told him that Evan did the same thing at the age of 9 or so in the Navy field, and James said "I am nine too!" and ran off looking pleased.

Better go heat up the soup and look for more stragglers.