I fought the ants…

…and the ants won.

Well, perhaps it’s more of a truce.

They remain entrenched under our deck — with mysterious access to a curve in our kitchen window that I suspect has been carved by many generations of their kind. Many, many generations. The wavy-glass and its surrounds are 102 years old.

I, in contrast, remain largely in control of the sink, cabinets and the counter to which the curve serves as a door.

This stand off holds up so long as the entire household is vigilant about food in what could be called an obsessive, compulsive way.

If you use a dish or utensil, wash it. Now. If it’s food and it’s out, put it away. Now. If the dog ate, wash his dish. Now. If watermelon is cut, the rind goes to the outdoor bin and the entire counter needs to be cleaned as if for surgery. Really, really now. If it’s sweet, seal it in a jar — perhaps one with a moat around it. Now.

I’m not kidding on the moat part. That’s actually an ancient technique for keeping ants at bay. I looked such stuff up after a first attempt at poisoning them failed and a second try made my face go numb.

Also ancient is disrupting the chemical trails they follow with vinegar or strongly-scented herbs. Hence the photo above.

The mint, rosemary, basil etc. from the garden was effective for a couple of days. The ants soon grew to like spicy in a welcome-sign kind of way.

So, I’ve largely surrendered.

They scout. We clean. We’ve managed to make it through most of the summer this way. We know from past experience the colony goes quiet as soon as temperatures drop.

It’s true. We’ve learned to live alongside each other, even to appreciate each other.

Our occasional lapses bring them joy. A single rice grain left in the sink overnight is by morning surrounded — like wolves on a buffalo carcass.

Their industriousness charms us at times, such as when one of the tiny ladies — the food scouts are all female — ventured onto our actual table during lunch.

“Awww, she has a crumb,” we said in unison.

It was a big crumb, seemingly too big for such a tiny ant to carry. But, there she went, back to the colony with her prize. We just watched her go.

Plucky little gal.

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