This may not come as a surprise, but I don’t like pancakes. At all. Waffles are okay, but with just butter or just peanut butter–no syrup, no jam, no honey. No French toast either-soggy bread, what’s up with that? I’m a bacon and eggs kind of girl.
But I want to take this opportunity to talk to you all (which is how us (we?) Pacific Northcoasters say y’all) about ants. Now, outside, where ants should live, they have a pretty good supply of food. Lots of bugs dying every day, fruit falling out of trees, all sorts of grass seads or whatever else ants eat. I have no problem with ants outside. I would rather they didn’t crawl on me, but that caveat aside, it’s live and let live.
So, with all this good food outside, why do they have to come into my house? Apparently a bug died or was killed in my shower last week. Between the time I took a shower without a dead bug and the time I was going to take a shower but discovered said dead bug (and that wasn’t more than say, 30 hours), a massive number of ants came for a picnic in my bathtub. Yeah, yeah, food is food wherever it’s found, but here’s the weird part. The trail of ants just suddenly began right in the middle of the outside of the tub. No line of ants from the light socket or heating vent, or from where the pipes connect to the wall, or some hole in the plaster, just right on the outside of the tub, about half way up, maybe two feet from the wall, then over the rim and down into the tub right to the bug.
It’s bad enough that they are in my bathroom, but I’m rather concerned over how they got in there! Apparently, they just materialized on my tub. And, to make matters worse, even though I disposed of all of that particular set of ants (and throroughly, let me tell you), at random intervals a single ant will be seen crawling somewhere in the bathroom, but again, never near any place where an ant should have been able to get into the room!
If I still lived near the Hanford nuclear site, I’d be forced to consider that these ants had been genetically altered by radioactivity and could materialize near food, and then back to wherever they live, since I’ve also not seen any signs of the ants marching back out of the room. But I’m not near a nuclear center and my ants should not be radioactive. Have they evolved on their own? Am I destined to have to be a killer everytime I want to use the bathroom without a small, creepy companion? I’d rather have a Buddhist nature, but I’m not showering with ants, and let’s not even go into the joy that is to have one of them climb across you when you’re sitting down, if you catch my drift. Yuck!
And don’t go telling me about all the big, nasty bugs you got in other parts of the country. I know that compared to the insect-beasts of Florida, a little ant seems hardly an issue, but at least you can tell where those monsters are coming from!
And MissTake, I’d be seriously worried about why that goat wouldn’t bite you. I’ve never known a goat not to bite anything he could reach, and their reach is a heck of a lot longer than you’d think.
