Kathe sent me a link to a very funny post about ants in the kitchen, which made me think about our own relationship with ants over the years.
We bought Lemony Death This and Jasmine Genocide That for years. Sometimes it worked, though never the way it was supposed to.
Our favorite was the sweet syrup bait that we were supposed to put out on little slips of cardboard, for the hungry ants to carry home and feed to the queen, thereby innocently killing her and dooming their family.
They carried it away by the spoonful, all right, but showed no sign of dying from it. On the other hand, they liked the bait so much that they stopped coming into the kitchen proper, contenting themselves with supping at the bait stations. That was fine by us, and we would have been happy to go on bribing them with the stuff (or Mrs. Butterworth's, if they preferred), but then they stopped responding to it. Oh, well.
Last summer, the ant activity was very modest, through no action of ours. Who knows what it will be in the coming months? Probably not even the ants know.
//The Magic 8-Ball says, "When you start talking about what the ants know...."\\
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