|On a shorter note...
||[Apr. 25th, 2014|10:17 am]
Ah, it's that time of year when I once again remind myself that I shouldn't be so cavalier about being attacked by ants while working in the garden. It's sort of fun, in a way, trying to rearrange the rock border and having them swarm all over me, mostly ignoring them, sometimes brushing them off, yelping a little "ow!" when one of them sinks its tiny mandibles into me. It only hurts a little, and I'm always impressed with their bravery and determination.
And this time, feeling an occasional pinching around my lower belly, I had a great giggle, when finally I resolved to explore, and yep, there was a little ant, crawling around giving me a nip now and then. I had ants in my pants! (Sorry, but my inner eight year old was giddy with it. If you didn't at least smile at thinking of it, then maybe you should pull your inner eight year old out of the attic, clear the cobwebs off of him/her and let out to play.)
Of course, two days later, covered with big crazy-itchy welts that will last for two weeks or more, I thought "Why can't you remember that now you're allergic to this stuff?" Clearly the formic acid also messes with short term memory.