... in my pants

At the outset I would like to say that I live in a house in which there is very little distinction between inside and outside. The windows have no glass or screens, and are generally kept open. When I am sweeping, there are a few holes in the floor I can push the dust down in order to get rid of it. I sweep a lot because there are geckos and sometimes birds in the rafters and the dust is always blowing in along with the mosquitos and the other critters.

But this morning, when I got to work and opened up my laptop, I just flipped.

There was a nice, quiet, ordered stream of ants, happily marching along the top of the screen. What are they doing with my computer? I moved the machine. I shook it. I cleaned the desk of everything and wiped it down. I spotted a crack in the wall near the window where they seemed to be coming from and taped it all to hell. By this point my fellow office workers are beginning to look at me strangely.

And still the ants go marching on. Those little bastards.

Ok, ants are an inevitable part of tropical life. I concede that it is impossible to keep my kitchen free of them, particularly when I have cat food on the floor and the cat likes to take its food into random parts of the house and leave it there. I came home from travels last week to find an ant trail on my balcony and followed it all the way into the back of the house where an angry, lonely cat had torn the bags of cat food apart, scattering food all over the floor for the delighted ants to feast on.

Last night, I exited the shower and grabbed my towel off the peg where it hangs on the wall. I started drying off and suddenly felt tiny stings all over my body. What are ants doing in my towel? Why do they have to bite like that? For such tiny creatures their stings have some staying power!

The stinging ants are the tiniest ones. The ones infiltrating the tender parts of my computer, making it totally screwy are medium sized. There is a larger black ant that operates with deathly speed. Leave a chicken bone on the kitchen counter for five minutes and you will return to find a hoarde of them. Why do ants like chicken?

Another great ant mystery of life: many varieties of ants hate talcum powder. Sprinkle some of that around and it's like holy water for the demons, or vaccum cleaners for cats, they scatter instantly. Only the chicken eating black bastards seem immune.

I'm not the only one who occasionally wigs out about insects. My mother set me a great precedent back in Australia. I actually have no real memory of the event, it's more like family legend by now: Mum setting fire to a driveway full of black, crawling, milipedes. Don't worry, Mum, we don't blame you, if I didn't live in a wooden house and my computer wasn't the object in question, I might have the lighter out by now too.

Ah ants, they aren't in my pants, but I hate them none the less...