Ok. I know part of home ownership is critter management, and the occasional run-in with THINGS that think it’s acceptable behavior to invade/explore/hunt in my house. Please recall my incident last spring with a
demon house centipede or ALL THE WASPY GOODNESS earlier this summer.
The ants. You guys. The ants. Sometimes I think if I did that science channel experiment of pouring molten aluminum down an ant hole in my yard would just reveal the whole goddamned yard is a giant network of ant cities. The little red ones that tried to make highways on the first floor (bathroom and kitchen) were handled and are gone. I sprayed the ant killer spray at the base of the house all the way around, added all the traps/baits/incantations/whatever, and they didn’t come back.
I got home from vacation and found little black ant corpses all over the floor in my bedroom. Then a live one, a BIG live one, of the larger carpenter black ant variety (not the tiny red/brown ones evicted earlier this year) just casually walked across my phone screen while I was checking email before bed the other night. IN. MY. BEDROOM.
So the process for de-anting is different from de-spidering. I have an agreement with spiders, because they’re good bug eaters. If I don’t see you, if I don’t walk into a web and you pay rent by eating all the bugs, no problem. Mostly it works, actually…if nothing else, it solves any guilt I have for removing spiders I find, because THEY broke the agreement. Shut up. It makes perfect sense to me.
Anyway, I had to check the basement. Please note, I’m not sure the
demon centipede still lives down there, although fAngus does go hunting as often as I allow (by opening the basement door). And it’s not finished yet down there, because waterproofing is a thing…and I’m getting off topic. I had to go to the basement, which requires VIGILANT anti-centipede attention, to make sure there aren’t any ant cities growing down there.
Holy shit I need to vacuum the basement corners and ceiling in the unfinished areas…the spiders have successfully done their job.
The centipede hid, AS IT SHOULD, assuming it’s still alive. Then again, the spiders survive which indicates a lack of house centipede tenants.
Then I found the dead body. And who doesn’t LOVE saying THAT about their basement?
A tiny, adorable field mouse lay dead in the middle of the floor by the furnace. NO IDEA how that dude got in, or who/what killed it. If it was fAngus, he just left his prize lying there like a messy serial killer, which is not how serial killers are supposed to work. But since there wasn’t a mark on it, and no evidence of poison OR centipede bites, I suspect cursing. Or something. I don’t care…he’s gone now. And I suppose I need to have a few traps, too, since there’s never one. SIGH.
Yesterday I sprayed the outside of the house again, or at least the sides of the house my bedroom touches. Today I’ll finish the other side and the garage. And the ants can just march right the fuck away from me, thanks, since they refuse to make deals and just wander about leaving their icky GPS trails behind them, with ZERO interference from my lackadaisical roommates who refuse to even notice an ant walking by. Assholes.
I’d still rather live in a house instead of apartment/town home, with a yard and trees and all the corresponding ant spray and occasional surprise dead
body rodent. And yes, I’m eternally grateful I haven’t run into a snakepider (if you’re new to my brand of weirdo, that’d be an unholy combination of snake, centipede, and spider mashed up a la Greek monster style) down there.
Also, this entire post makes my skin itch and I’ve pulled my pant legs up three times in the last 20 minutes checking to be SURE there’s nothing crawling. You’re welcome.