Where have you been, young lady?

Where have you been, Young Lady? Did you ever get asked that question? If you did, it was probably one of your parents, and you were not where you were expected to be, when you were expected to be there. I've had to answer that question, a few times.

When Rob and I returned from vacation, I had intended to jump right back into the blog, and tell you all about our adventure and things that I had learned, or discovered. But, when I got back, I didn't really want to write, I wanted to think for a while instead. What follows is an expanded version of one of my thoughts:

I've decided that my son is a genius. I've always thought that he was a smart, creative, funny young man, but, he's brighter than that. There has been a lot of repair work going on in my building over the Winter, and now, into Spring. It seems that all of this hammering and sawing has caused the resident ants to wander about, like earthquake refugees, and they've decided that my kitchen and bathroom will make lovely temporary housing. They even put up some tiny tents, and brought their supplies over in an orderly ant fashion, single file lines, no pushing, just doing their jobs. Sadly for me, one of their new cities was in my medicine cabinet, the same place that Rob and I keep our toothbrushes. So, I did what anyone would do when threatened with an invading force: I purchased ant traps. Perhaps you're thinking, "What about diplomacy?" Believe me when I tell you, that no amount, or correct combination, of words would bring their activities to a halt. It was us or them. Now it's only us, in the bathroom.

Ants are smart, too, though I would never say "genius."

One lone ant soldier must have sent a message to the rest of the troops, explaining the traps and ensuing heavy casualties, because just as I thought it was safe to go into the kitchen, there they were. The odd thing is that you would think that they would be picking up food crumbs, but, not these ants; they were walking, single-file along the back of the counter, pacing from one end to the other. Knowing that I could take these little guys, too, I placed one ant trap at the end of their path, and waited.

Apparently one of the ants mistook the beige plastic poison cube for modern art, as he invited several friends, who also invited several friends, to see the display. One by one they pilgrimaged, miniature tickets in hand, to the temple of modern art. Then, one by one they turned and walked back in the opposite direction.

When my son was over, I told him about the ants, and pointed out the poison trap, and explained that I wasn't sure why it wasn't working. He looked at the counter, and watched the ants.

I pointed out how clean the countertop was, even saying, "No crumbs!"
"I see," was all he said.

I walked away, and when I returned, I found him removing crumbs from my toaster, placing them precisely around the ant trap. When I questioned him, he explained that the these ants don't know that this trap contains something that they can eat, so there has to be edible items nearby so they can learn this.

They'll see the crumbs, then explore the trap to find something delicious, but deadly.
I laughed, but, I figured that I may as well let him try. But, I knew that it wouldn't work. What was he thinking, that these were suicidal ants? That an ant would pass by a crunchy bit of healthy bread to go into an unknown, dark place to eat poison?

Guess what? All of the ants are gone. The bread crumbs look to be untouched. There really are suicidal ants.

Other things that I've been thinking about and researching are issues about free speech and the 911 conspiracy theories that abound. I may write on those topics in the future. I also have some photos of the neighborhood, and a man after he completed a drug deal. And, I haven't forgotten the "Untraceable" photos, or pictures of the trip to share with you!

So back to the ants.

I got a phone call from my friend, you know the one. She asked me how my former mother-in-law is doing. (Read "Stupid Girl" for the answer to that one.) When I reminded her that the woman had died, nearly a year ago, she sounded surprised. She told me how much she values my friendship and how much she cares about me, and my family. Then she asked me for a favor, which I declined. She questioned if I didn't want to help her because I didn't like her. I told her the truth: I didn't want to do it, because I didn't want to be involved with her drama. And I slipped in several references to getting counseling, but, she sees that as a dark, scary place. We chatted for a few more minutes, then I told her that I needed to get back to my work.

Sometimes I think about all the good stuff that I've offered her: love, friendship, laughter, support, but, how it goes unnoticed, on her everyday pacings along the countertop of life.

Thank you for reading, and for your continued support of this blog! Yes, now, for sure, back to regularly scheduled blogging.