So the new THING WE'RE ALL DEALING WITH is ants. They started showing up in a specific portion of the living room. Steph knows how to make accurate and scientific war on ants. (My anti-ant skills are rusty and mostly consist of diatomaceous earth, swearing, and plastic zipper bags. Also occasionally hammers.) Steph sprinkled some of the diatomaceous earth left over from when I was dealing with the little fuckers at Virtual Hammer, and sprayed some poison outside. We were hopeful.

But alas.

"WHERE ARE YOU FINDING ALL THESE ANTS?!" Steph wondered, calmly, and barged upstairs with some blue tape and fury.

There were ants under the blankets that we'd shifted onto the floor while vacuuming the couch. There were ants exploring Belovedest's bottle of orange soda. There were ants who had discovered that when someone knocks over a sugary beverage and some of it splashes onto a drawer, there's a tasty treat! I'm not sure whether the basket of unloved Halloween candy that had been outside had any, but it could have had.

Steph came back with the diatomaceous earth and the vacuum cleaner. I was sent off for some Borax. (Self-sent? I figured it was close to closing time, threw on some clothing, and zoomed out the door without remembering to bring water with me.)

Costco had no Borax or ant traps, but it did have frozen burgers (Angus!) and I figured it was probably time for me to renew my cache of discounted gift cards. I figured I would also slay a pizza and bring it home, and might as well also get some frozen coffee. (I hadn't realized that I'd forgotten my water yet.) That took a while. I decided that Safeway was next. By the time the pizza was ready, I'd decided Home Depot was actually a better bet.

[brief interlude of texting Judo Lad, who's doin' a concern about not being under- or oversolicitous when Fishie's having a bad judo day.]

So I see that the nearer of the two motorized carts at HD looks full, I unplug it, I stow the plug in the compartment, and zoom off down the cleaning aisle. By the time I'm halfway down, the speed has dropped to a crawl although the battery light's still green. And then it just fails to move forward at all. I try reverse. It reverses. I paddle with my feet to make it go faster. I discover that the tone and speed of the beeping alters a bit with my pushing, making the sound faster and wobbly. I try going forward again. It pathetically fails to go forward, the green light flickering, dimming, and dying. Repeat for a while. I eventually get out of the cleaning aisle and halfway turned around. I've washed up against a Seasonal Fall Shit display and my backward progress is impeded. Forward still isn't working.

I holler and wave down an employee from the service desk; a spotty young fella comes jogging over. I explain the problem with the cart. And how probably the best thing we can do is take it out of gear and shove. And does he know how to take it out of gear. (No.)

"How heavy is that display?" he asks. The one that I'm nearly backed into.

Picture, if you will, a Spotty Yoof in an orange apron that's probably the exact color opposite of my teal dress, shoving the motorized shopping cart backwards at high speed, beeping wildly, through the cinnamon-scented seasonal display, while I am still seated on the cart.

The other cart functioned, after the Yoof unplugged it and leaned his hand on the seat after I told him that it's got a safety switch that tries to make sure there's a butt in the seat before it moves.

I got through the store. They did have borax-based premade traps. I got the indoor sort and the outdoor sort, even though Steph didn't see ant activity outside. I got a few other things while I was there.

Then I came home, unloaded the car onto the porch, came inside, and began pathetically calling until Belovedest popped out of the bedroom. (I believe I was saying "Pizza?" but my memory could be mistaken.) Belovedest hauled the last few things in. I offered them some "help" in the form of "anus burgers?" because I could totally shove some. They helped. I shoved the burgers in the freezer.

Steph and Belovedest deployed indoor traps while I loaded the dishwasher, then everyone washed their hands and I shared out pizza. It was half and half pepperoni and cheese, which is why it took so long. Belovedest grabbed a piece of meat that fell off mine, but had already fed themselves.

So the ants have decided to swarm into my building at work. That was what started the whole mess. From there, they discovered my coffee syrups. I am one of the team's suppliers of sugars, so needless to say I was alarmed at the whole thing. I set about combat in the way of my people: putting everything sugary into ziploc even if it was already in a sealed bag, and squishing the hell out of the ants that I did find.

( Read more... )

I still hate both

Not much happening. Not so many ants today. Slept in.

Spent dinnertime on my knees on the floor smashing ants with a small hammer as my nephew cowered on a chair with his pbj bagel (out of bread) and shrieked.

Now he's in bed watching Pokemon and I've got the worst of the ants cleared up. Bed's a safe place from ants.

heh, I may eventually work my way up to happy today. Don't count on it though.

Augh! person next to me in computer lab has a binder decorated with ant stickers all over it.

Ants.

One or two, going about their business, are cool every now and then, and, depending on my mood, get either squished or escorted out or ignored.

When you barge into the apartment after a particularly *difficult* Beltane morning (as in Circle scattered to the four winds and all ill and all in a really *pissy* mood) and find the floor of the entry closet at least 50% gray with all these INSECTS...

Thusly were the ants smote, verily and with extreme prejudice. Then Auntie J gathered herself together, yawped at the landlady, and went on a Sithly trip with a four-year-old crosstown on bus system to fetch red pepper and cinnamon in industrial quantities, both safe for floor with four-year-old grubbing around.

Now the ants (the tiny swarming kind) are in both bathrooms, don't ask me how they got there from the kitchen for I have No Clue, and have started marching up on the rug perimiter... and my nose smells like cayenne pepper. At least landlady will spray Friday.

JL, Darth Auntie From Hell