Perhaps I was feeling a bit arrogant, as last spring's campaign ended with a touch of success. However, toward the end of the battle, I wondered if by reducing one species of ant I was not inviting another, more pernicious species. As is turns out, I may have been on to something.
I have not journaled my war against the ants this spring. I've not had time to record the events of this never-ending war because, quite frankly, the avenging hordes of ants have overwhelmed my defenses. They were in the kitchen, the bathroom, the laundry room, the living room, the boys' rooms, my office, and even the fireplace. The only sanctuary we had was the master bedroom. I used all the same tactics that I used last spring: baiting with Spinosad, baiting with boric acid laced honey, DE, DE laced with boric acid, and even scalding water. But nothing I did slowed the invaders.
So, I called for reinforcements. After a little research on the Internet, I found the perfect mercenary force to call on for aid. This pest control company agreed to the original Rules of Engagement. The legionnaire that came to my aid was a lethal combination of hunter and warrior. He crawled around the house armed with a flashlight and a can of aerosolized orange oil. Looking in every nook and cranny on the inside, overturning every rock and stone along the outside, he hammered about fifteen colonies of sugar ants around the perimeter of the home, and laid bait and set physical barriers for all the ants still finding their way into the home.
For one week, we were largely free of ants. Last week, I called him back out.
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