Getting Antsy

Tiny black grease ants, slightly larger sugar ants, huge black wood ants, and the dreaded red "fire" ants...we get 'em all.  During a long, hot summer, it's not uncommon for the smaller ants to come in the house looking for water.  There's been only one brief invasion this year, and that was easily repelled.  There have been years when I really had to watch where I stood while topping off the goats' water trough because the red ants were nesting everywhere out by the pen.  The thought occurred to me the other day that I hadn't seen any this year, and, believe me, I watch.  One thing you don't want to do is stand on a red ant hill.  Like tiny pit bulls, when red ants bite, they won't let go, and you know right away why they're called fire ants.  Once my dog came running to me, crying and pawing at her face; a red ant had latched on to her tender nose!  Tree Guy didn't come yesterday so I was doing more laundry.  I use an old-fashioned (what a surprise), big wicker basket to transport the wash to and from the clothesline, balancing it on my hip and under my arm.  Bringing in a load of sweet-smelling sheets, I put it down in the bedroom and went back to whatever I'd been doing.  Ouch!  I felt a tiny, red-hot poker stabbing the underside of my arm.  Ouch!  That little devil-demon poked me again in the ribs.  Probably looking at the oak tree, I hadn't noticed that I'd put the laundry basket down on a nest of red ants and some had hitched a ride into the house.  I'm just oh-so-glad I hadn't been waiting for underwear to dry...these are not the kind of ants I'd want in my pants!