When I first got my house at the beginning of this year there was a huge evergreen smack in the center of the backyard. A tree which promptly was uprooted and fell over during a storm less than 24 hours after I got the place.
The tree was cut up and hauled away with a small stump marking were it used to be. So I spent time and effort creating a small garden around said stump. Nothing but beautiful, fragrant flowers.
Which, after a month, started to wither and die. I was perplexed. Usually plant life takes much longer to die under my care. Given- all vegetation dies with my black thumb but this was setting some new speed records. So I gave them a closer look. Literally. I got down on my hands and knees and stuck my face inches from them.
Ants. The flowers were seething with black ants. Seems when the tree fell, the roots were pulled up creating a level underneath the ground. The ants had used these to their advantage and made what amounted to a mound 6-feet in diameter. And they were using the newly planted flowers’ roots as food.
That was 2 weeks ago. Since then I have poured POURED toxins into the mound, wiping out sections of ants (and exterminating any of the remaining flowers (by that point, I considered it a mercy killing)). I'd gone so far as pondering dumping gasoline into it and throwing in a match. This morning I took my hatchet, my shovel, gassed up the chainsaw (yeah, I have a chainsaw for the zombies.), and went to town on the roots and what remained of the stump. When I was done, I took new soil and dumped it in the holes where the roots had been. Then I began to water the soil so the mud would pack in.
As I watered one particularly large spot, the ground bubbled. I thought "just an air pocket, the mud’s working its way down". Then the mud began to surge, and what came forth was a handful shy of a biblical plague.
Toads. Dozens and dozens of toads. All sizes. They were pulling themselves out of the mud, climbing over each other, and spreading out like lava onto the townspeople. I was agape. I turned, watching them hop and scurry over my shoes and through the grass. Even Fred (my dog) was staring with her jaw open (she took off when they got within a few feet of her). Still stunned, I dropped the hose, turned off the water, went to the backdoor where Fred was scratching to be let in, and started to take my shoes off.
While all this "rain o' toads" business was going on, my legs had started to tingle. I had presumed with sweat, it being in the mid-80s today and me outside swinging a hatchet. However, with the March Of The Amphibians, I was a wee bit preoccupied to think much of it. So when I sat down to take off my shoes, I was somewhat surprised that my legs were covered with ants- black with them, like mud was smeared on my shins. Ants were all over me. I'm guessing I seemed like a good place to be when confronted with rising water and an army of toads.
Now even more “!!?!” than before, I ended up stripping down to my underwear in my backyard, hosing myself clear then going inside to take several very long and very…detailed showers.
The moral of the story is simple: f***ing ants.
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