Soggy

[rejectomorph]

Again, a damp day has given way to a soggy night. It's getting monotonous. So is the incursion of ants into the kitchen. Every time it rains they come in, presumably to find a dry spot to crawl on. It does them no good, as I always brush them off the sink board and wash them down the drain. I'm glad I'm not an ant who has to deal with a dickish human.

But again it's apt to dry out on Sunday. Last year it rained every time I went to the store, and this year it turns dry every time I go to the store. I wonder if that means we'll be going back to wet Sundays next year? If so, it would be better than drought, but I'd rather have plenty of rain on the days I don't go out.

Or maybe by next year I'll have found a winning lottery ticket and used my millions to move to a place where I won't get rained on all winter. Yeah, that's a plan. I'll count on it.

Comments

[dreamsrundeep.livejournal.com]

Aaaaaaaaaaants! Oh, I dislike them. We're fighting a full-on invasion in our house, too. Sigh.

[rejectomorph]

I'm actually fond of ants as long as they: a) do not chew up trees or things made from trees; b) do not bite or sting; c) do not get into the bowls of food I leave out for the feral cats; d) do not come into my house.

When I was a kid I spent many happy hours watching the ant trails in my yard, and would always be especially pleased whenever I found an ant carrying a chunk of insect carcass ten times its size. Impressive. I even wrote a story about an ant when I was six years old— my first work of fiction!

I feel bad about slaughtering them now, but if I don't kill them they'll get into my cookies, and I like cookies more than I like ants— although I've never been moved to write a story about a cookie.