You're thinking this is going to be another one of Claudia's boring history rants, aren't you. Something she's been reading triggers a little history lesson she's going to share because EVERYBODY loves history just as much as she does. Well, you'd be wrong.
Well, maybe not too wrong -- I do happen to be re-reading A Bright Shining Lie, a really good book about the Vietnam War, re-reading because I happened to watch a History Channel doc on the War (well done, I thought - lots of interviews with 60-65-year old vets).
However. The Ho Chi Minh Trail I am referencing is the effing trail of ants that has been running along my ceiling molding. These are not the normal smallish black ants, or the even smaller fire ants that we have to watch for on our patio outside. These are teeny-tiny, rather light in color, smaller than a pinhead. They travel along the trail in packs of three or four, heading in both directions. Sometimes they meet head-on, exchange a few words of greeting, or maybe saliva or something else disgusting, and continue on. If there is a dirty plate left on the counter (HUSBANDS!), they make a beeline, ummmm, antline to the plate. So gross.
I think they might be ghost ants??? They don't bite and they really don't get into my cupboards, perhaps because every speck of food in my house is either in the fridge or in a jar, an airtight plastic container or zip bag. Seriously, buy stock in the zip bag company -- I'll make you rich.
So, yeah, I've been googling ants and ant killing techniques like mad. I may go with the Borax and powdered sugar concoction. A good squirt of Raid works like a champ, of course, and is very gratifying (drink this, suckers!). But you can really only smell that stuff for a short time before you can feel yourself sprouting antennae and a thorax. I'm off to war. --cds
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