Ants Be Gone

The last few days I’ve been humming a silly song from Laverne and Shirley. (It was a television show for all you youngsters who read---aka Destiny)

Remember the song that Shirley would sing to Laverne about ants?

“Just what makes that little 'ole ant,
Think he can move a rubber tree plant
Anyone knows an ant, can’t
Move a rubber tree plant.
But he’s got HIGH hopes.
He’s got HIGH hopes.
He’s got high apple pie in the sky hopes…”

And then I can’t remember the rest…but the song always made me feel happy about ants. Little ants working hard against the odds…
Moving rubber tree plants hither and yon…

And, you know, if I had to PICK a pest to invade my home…I guess ants would be my choice. I much prefer The Ants to say…cockroaches or big hairy spiders.

But, for the love of all that is good…I’m about to go crazy with all the ants.

Since moving into our home we have had all various sizes of ants to invade. We’ve had big fat crunchy black ones. We’ve had teeennnnnyyyyy tiny black and red ones. And we’ve had every size in between. I have stomped, sprayed and even sprinkled baby powder everywhere because a “Heloise” help tip suggested I do so.

Nothing has really worked.

In the last year the tiniest of black ants have taken up residence and won’t…I repeat WILL NOT go away.

Of course, you can find them in the kitchen where all ant enticing items abide. But, then they made themselves at home in the guest bedroom with ½ inch trails of them marching from the window to the floor. They have pioneered new trails through the living room and have found their little ant smorgasbord of delight under the dining table.

But explain to me the colony setting up residence in the tank of our toilet. Or the complete NATION that overtook our medicine cupboards.

The last week of school was the clincher. I sent the boys up to the schoolroom ahead of me…but heard them return before I could get out the door.

“Mom, there are a WHOLE lot of ants on the school door. I think we should spray ‘em!”

I headed up to the classroom with “I don’t even WANT to know what’s in this” Spray Poison in my hands….

The door of our schoolroom was covered in two, one and half inch lines of ants. They went from ground to door jam and then branched off into the room vent, and across the wall in three directions. I began to spray and cough, cough and spray. Grumbling under my breath…about the dear little creatures and why they were here…

Then I opened the door…and stepped in…

To have CLUMPS OF ANTS fall on my head.

Oh my goodness…

Clumps of ants… The ants COVERED the ceiling of the entry to the school. There were so many ants trying to walk across the top of the door, they were falling off in clumps. The over the door shoe bag that holds various school supplies was now full of ants. There were hordes of the little beasts mounding on every wall hanging and poster.
They were everywhere. I sprayed two whole cans of the poison and vacated the premises. Two hours later as I swept up mounds of ants…dead ants were still falling from the ceiling.

I logically know the next step is extermination. But exterminators in third world Africa are scary. Really scary.

So for now. I’ll keep spraying and mumbling…praying the little darlings don’t completely overtake my house. I am a human, after all, with bug spray at my disposal, brains that function (most of the time) and feet ten times the size of their miniscule little invading bodies.

Of course, they can’t overtake my house…

But they have high hopes.

“Oops there goes another rubber tree….oops there goes another rubber tree…oops there goes another rubber tree plant!"

VICTORY!!!!!

Jeff Cash.

In the guest room.

With a broom handle.

The Rat Has Left the Building!!!!

Oh Rats!

Here we go again! The sound of scurrying feet...the unexplainable bumps and clunks from the kitchen....LOVELY telltale droppings of the not-so-welcome houseguest. A rat.
Stella spied him first behind my washing machine. Isaac and I spied him second when we turned the kitchen light on two mornings ago. Jeff spied him third during his 5 am study session. The kids and I all saw him today when he scurried over our feet (OOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!) as we walked to the kitchen for breakfast. Nice.
I have a lovely home. Comfy furniture. Color co-ordinated decor. We clean. And still that little nasty varmit has invaded.
I'll forgo the obvious spiritual applications and simply say, "I WANT HIM OUT!!!"
So, begins the process...the mad plugging and stuffing of old blankets and rags in any crack or crevice we can find. Strategically placing long sticks and broom handles to be grabbed at a seconds notice to pound a tiny beedy eyed head. The tenative first walk through the house in the morning (flip on the light, grit your teeth, search every corner and inch of floor space before you step...)
I'll let you know how it turns out. I'm sure we will be victorious. My husband, with all the masculine hunter/masacre-small-rodent instincts at play, will seek and destroy. Alex's big Rat Annhilator weapon ("its a BIG BIG stick mom that would SMASH 'em good!") has been carefully designed and stored. And my clean and tidy box of DCon has been placed on the highest shelf near the hole where he has been entering. One way or another, he will be escorted from the premises.
Preferably not by me.
Preferably, very soon.