War On TerrorAnts

I hate ants.

They're ALL OVER, most particularly because it rained the other night, and when it rains, OH LORD, here come the idiot ants. 

So I get up in the morning and my kitchen has a merry trail of ants, coming and going from the recycling container and trash container. 

Awesome. 

I'm sick to death of this. They've invaded behind the stove, in the pantry, the bathroom linen closet (???), and now they're coming in under the freezer. 

I went to Home Depot. Got more Ant Death In a Bottle. Declared absolute war on them with a  hose-attached spray. Carefully read the directions to find that the spray is highly toxic to bees.

I like bees. 

No interest in killing the bees. 

I relate this fact to Doug, as we're standing outside. "Well, there aren't that many bees out this early," he says authoritatively. "It shouldn't really affect them."

I look down at his feet, as he's standing in a patch of sparsely-blooming clover.

"Don't step on the bee," I warn him.

"Oh!" he says, looking down. "Well...OK, maybe." 

He went back inside. Something about working from home and letting him know what's going on when I figure it out. 

I wasn't entirely stupid at Home Depot. I also got two tubes of outdoor caulk made for siding, which have a 35-year guarantee. 

Using a little cosmetic mirror, a roll of paper towels, a putty knife, a tube of caulk and a caulking gun, I got to work. By laying the mirror on the ground, I could see the gap between the siding and the concrete footing of the house. I used the caulk to fill up that gap, the putty knife to make sure it got stuffed INTO the crack, and then smoothed it out a little with the paper towels. I got about five feet of it done in the worst-offending area; it left a little crowd of black ants running around confused on the concrete, so....maybe? 

Major thunderstorm warnings tonight; lots of rain and thunder and threats of hail.

Gardens

So. I have two elm trees trying to volunteer to grow in the yard. One is trying to wedge itself under the porch. (We fight every year, he and I.) The other has now taken over the dwarf cherry tree. You know, the ornamental tree that was never going to get taller than six feet, the one that's right over a gas line or an electrical line or something underground that's likely to have dire consequences if broken? Yeah, that's now trying to grow into an 80-foot-high disease-prone monster.

*()&^!. (Rhymes with "duck.")

Good news: WE HAVE BABY GRAPES!!! They're so CUTE on the vines, teeny little dots about the size of aphids.
No, they're NOT aphids.

We have black aphids on the plants on the north side of the house. LOTS of aphids. TONS of aphids. We noticed some ants running around among them. Great. They're farming the damned aphids.
So...the bad news is that there's a Monsanto-sized aphid colony being farmed on one side of the house.
The good news is that it's all on a bunch of weeds we couldn't care less about.
So do you pull and burn the weeds and risk spreading the stupid aphids to the plants you WANT to save? Or leave 'em alone and hope they attract ladybugs?

More good news: The raspberries are ECSTATIC. They've already bloomed once, and there's a little crop of green raspberries rapidly growing along. I also see two places among the grapes where there are some new leaves poking up from the ground. Those leaves look suspiciously like raspberry leaves, can't imagine where they came from.

And the oak tree (remember him? The pole with leaves and no branches?) has suddenly decided to become a TREE instead of a pole. He's firing out branches in every direction and pushing out leaves like CRAZY. This is the first year since the frost damage happened that he's looked even remotely this healthy. So all in all, it's quite thrilling garden-wise out here. The clematis vines are blooming in deep red, white and pink (Lauren is DAZZLED, the flowers are bigger than her hand and they're right next to her beloved snails, whom she visits during every rainstorm.) David, noting the rapid growth of the shade-loving plants by the front door says to Doug and me, "Did you see the hostages outside?"
We had to bite our tongues.
"The hostas? Those big, green plants by the door?"
"Hostas, yeah, did you see them?"
Yes, they're coming up well, too.

I fear we shall be calling them hostages forever more now.

I also went trolling with a dandelion digger (or should I say a "daddy-lion" digger?) and was pleased at the sheer number of worms I dug up no matter where I went. And one grub, but he went into the birdfeeder. Yeah, mean, I know. Well, not as far as the birds are concerned.

Oh! And we had two goldfinch sightings this weekend. They've discovered the thistle seeds on the front porch, and if they see you coming, they zip off into the new elm tree.

Which brings the post around full-circle now, doesn't it?