Okay y’all, the word(s) of the week is FIRE ANT. If you’re not familiar, please let me know where you live, and if there are any farms available to purchase… asking for a friend. Second, let me give a quick introduction.
The fire ant: A tiny demon creature that lives underground in East Texas with billions of its tiny demon family members. Fire ants enjoy spending their days building their evil lairs over and around perennials, destroying crop roots, and waging absolute war on my ankles, hands, and ahem… other places…I’ll get to that.
It is a very rare occasion that I go an entire day without a fire ant bite or two, or twenty. I haven’t done the research, and I am in no way an expert, but I am convinced they have a secret phrase or code that they use to ensure that all the ants bite down at the exact same time, but only AFTER they have secretly invaded your body.
One second, you’re minding your own business, deadheading the zinnias, and the next you’re throwing down your snips, yelling expletive language, and swiping at your feet and ankles like you quite literally are on fire. I see now how they get their name.
This week I happen to have a very unfortunate event evolving a single fire ant. I had just finished digging up some ranunculus corms and preparing a bed for a new crop. As you can imagine, that was a very fire ant filled afternoon, I had come across a new mound right in the middle of the bed that I planned on seeding the following day. I watched as a flood of ants erupted from the ground like your 6th grade volcano science project. There was no way I was going to be able to work around them, they had to go. Out came the poison.
The next day I was feeling pretty good about my ant-less bed and got to work on sowing the seeds. Remember, I’m in East Texas, and it’s June. It’s hot and humid and overall, it’s just uncomfortable. That day, I was a little extra annoyed because I kept feeling something poking my… if you are easy offended, this is the part where you stop reading… my boob. It was like having a sticker in your sock and with every move it just keeps poking at your skin. So, I’m working, and I’m scratching, focused on finishing the task when suddenly the fires of hell are in my bra!
Thank the lord none of my neighbors were outside because in an instant I had my shirt off, half my sports bra pulled up, and yep, she was out. It was a half Mardi Gras situation. After a panicked inspection I found a single, yet mighty, fire ant. Clearly, it was seeking revenge for the previous days’ poisoning. This thing had bit me at least 6 times. I picked that mother f’er off my skin and gave it good squish between my fingers.
As good as it felt to squish that little devil, the damage had already been done. I was left with a burning itching sensation that literally had me waking up at night reaching for the calendula gel. On a side note, if you’ve never tried calendula gel for bug bites, rashes, or any other skin irritant I 10/10 recommend it.
It has been a few days since the event now, and I’m STILL feeling the effects of the attack. I’ve learned the hard way not to ignore the small poking sensations and that it’s probably a good idea to do a proper investigation and depending on the body part, preferably not out in the open.
But anyway, that’s my short story about how a fire ant got me to half flash my neighborhood. I’ve never been so happy to have very few and far neighbors. And the next time you think to yourself that you might want a fresh bouquet of flowers, think no more and get them. Every flower that I get to put into your hands makes those fire ants bites hurt just a little bit less.
Thanks for sticking with me and our little flower farm!
