gurdymonkey | Feast of the Stupidest Ants

It happens every year. They show up for a single day in winter - and then they're gone.

Last year they came up two and a half flights of stairs inside the walls, emerged through the back of the medicine cabinet as if they were the Locker Aliens from Men in Black, went line dancing in the bathroom sink - and didn't go any farther than that. This year they marched in senseless ranks up and down the kitchen wall to the right of the window, forming up on the counter behind the sink - and didn't go any farther than that. They ignored the section of counter where I tend to prepare food. They completely missed the empty marmalade jar half full of soapy water that I didn't have time to rinse out and put into recycling. Nor did they rappel down the cabinet doors and up into the trash can like little ant commandos.

I have retarded ants.

Everything on the counter came off, was inspected for ants, wiped down with paper towels and Formula 409 and set on the stove top. I filled the sink with really hot, soapy water and herded the legion into the drink with paper towels. I wiped down the wall, backsplash, windowsill and counter with Formula 409 in case of any errant food trails. Then I pulled out last year's Sekrit Weppin. The free straw that came with my can of WD40 works just dandy with the Raid ant spray I left under the bathroom sink. (What can the retarded little beggers find that is so compelling 3 feet ABOVE the counter?) I'll stop after work tomorrow and pick up some ant traps for good measure. I don't care about the Daddy Longlegs who frequent the stairwell, and the occasional spider that drops in through the skylight is no big deal, but the annual parade of Legio Stupidius requires countermeasures. Er, no pun intended.

In unrelated news, The Long Missing Bushi From Mutsu wrote:
He steps to the door
hoping to see the Lady...
but sees only hems...
Colors layered on colors...
against the pure white snowfall.

The green of the pines
laden with shimering snow
strongly contrasting.
The colors of woven silk
invigorate these old eyes

Footprints in the snow
tiny shuffling geta
Lady leaves her tracks.
Why was she here lingering?
What caused her to tarry so?

(OK, it was in response to something

reynardine wrote here, but it was just too perfect.)

My answer:
In royal colors
The dusk sky watches and waits,
Her only ally.
"He will not come," she admits,
Turning homeward in the dark.