This winter’s rainy season was unusually long, and my place filled up with ants accordingly. Normally, they go outside once it’s dry and warm enough, but I suspect that after so many moist months, they’ve forgotten that outside exists. They are absolutely everywhere and we coexist peacefully for the most part, just different kinds of beings sharing the same apartment—or so I thought until I opened a glass jar of honey to get a dab for my oatmeal and found two ants inside the container.
No, we’re not equal. Some of us are considerably more resourceful than others.
One of the ants was dead, no doubt of overindulgence, and the other was marching triumphantly to and fro on the waxy surface. This was cappings honey, which contains bits of wax and goodness knows what else, so it’s extra good for you.
I have no idea how on earth the ants got in there. It’s a jar of honey I’d been using for a while, and it definitely didn’t have ants in it the last time I sealed it up. All I can do is bow before them, and wrap the whole jar up in a plastic bag.
Some of my ants have apparently learned to walk on water to get to Hammett’s cat food, which sits in a moat. I’ve been putting a couple of drops of dish soap in the water to break the surface tension so the ants theoretically cannot walk across it, but where there is a ferociously strong will, there is a way, and/or some of them are good at the long jump.