March of the Sugar Ants

It’s that time of year again when the Sugar Ants invade the houses. They are such tiny ants, that you don’t even know you have a problem until you mistakenly leave a particle of food on the kitchen counter. There have to be at least 25 of them before you can actually determine they are ants. I am against spraying poison in my kitchen, so after I arrived in the south about seven years ago, I started asking around to see what other people do about them. Each response I got started with a long sigh, and a rolling of eyes. Most of the women I talked to told me that they are like squirrels, you just have to get used to them and accept them as they are. You will never get rid of squirrels at your bird feeders, and you will never get rid of Sugar Ants in your kitchen. So I now do what everybody else in Raymond does. I simply wipe them away with a wet dish cloth when they appear. It is an incentive to keep your kitchen cleaner so there are fewer, but they are always waiting in the wings for the next food particle to drop. Oh, yes, and all food containers have to be hermetically sealed on the kitchen shelves. One small opening can lead to an invasion. I finally gave up and moved the sugar into the refrigerator. No matter how hard I tried to keep them out, they found a way in. I grew tired of finding them floating in my hot tea each morning. So far, they haven’t figured out how to open the refrigerator door, but I haven’t ruled that out yet. All things are possible.

While cruising the Internet, I found a musical composition for saxophones  entitled “The March of the Sugar Ants.” Here’s the URL if you’re interested in hearing their battle song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AF-5Y_zRz6g

 Two Encounters

 Years ago, when Bill and I were attending Ole Miss, we rented a house on Molly Barr Road in Oxford. I planted Morning Glory seeds by the corner trellis on the front porch. They grew and bloomed quite nicely. One night, I was standing by the trellis when something big flew up next to me and extended its proboscis into one of the flowers. I was so astonished that all I could do is stand stark still and gape. My next thought was maybe this was Mothra, the giant Japanese moth that was friends with Godzilla. It was the biggest moth I had ever seen.

This afternoon, on my way to the thrift store in Clinton, I looked down to find another moth that was as big as my hand. I thought it was dead, so I picked it up and put it in the back seat of my car. When I arrived home, I tried to take some photos of it, and found to my surprise, that it was still alive, though mortally wounded. The moth was nice enough to extend its wings to allow me to take a picture. Unfortunately, camera phones don't take close ups, so I had to back off till it came into focus.  But believe me, it's a big one, even though my photo doesn't do it justice. Nature always has a way of amazing me. My biggest delight is to be surprised. Thank you Mother Nature for this one!

Both moths are members of the Giant Silk Worm family Saturniidae. They are nocturnal. 

The New Guest Room 

                           I bought a new rug for the guest room. Ya'll come and visit, now.

My Yard 2014

            The Snow Bells come up in profusion, early in the spring. I always look forward to them.

 Each year, Evening Primroses bloom in the middle of my walkway. How could I possibly cut them down!

               Here's a view of my back yard. The center garden bed is where I grow my herbs.

 Miss Johnnie Ward gave me the bunny and I put him between two Hydrangea bushes that have yet to bloom.

And last, but not least, the Sun Drops have taken over part of the front yard, as well as a large bed in the back yard. Last year, I gave away a number of them to people who stopped and asked if they could have some. I gave them freely. Each year, more and more of them come back. Who could ask for more!

Frogs

 

 When I was in 6th grade, each one of us made a presentation about a subject that was of interest to us. Ray Woodward, sat in back of me in class, and I never thought much of him until he made his presentation. He told us about his uncle, who was lost in the Hindenburg disaster, and even though it made a strong presentation, what I remember most is the poem he chose to share with us. I never forgot the poem, and here it is:

What a wonderful bird the frog are.

When he stand he sit almost.

When he hop he fly almost.

He ain't got no sense.

He ain't got no tail hardly either.

When he sit, he sit on what he ain't got almost. 

Before the Deluge

We are fixin' to have another round of rain like last week, and before the rain dampens all the blooming flowers, especially the Azaleas, I found myself taking photos of some of the most beautiful flowers around town. Ah, the Azaleas. They are always the most beautiful. If you ever get a chance to visit Natchez, you will find that the Azalea blooms there are as big as your hand. It's a special place. Raymond isn't far behind.

                                     This photo was taken at Martha Ferguson's mother's house.

                       This photos was taken at Mickey and Ed Bearden's house, who are my neighbors.

              This is a photo of Mr. Charlie's flowers at the Baptist church. He has magic in his hands.

                 This is a photo of Martha and Charles Robinson's Verbina in their raised flower bed.

Rain

          Just yesterday, the Kale was bolting and it looked like spring had finally arrived.

                  The massive flocks of Black Birds were breaking up into smaller groups.

               Today, it just keeps raining and raining. There is no place for the water to go.

If I were still living in California, the power would have gone out hours ago with such storms. We seldom lose power here in Mississippi.