Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?
Where the hell did they go? Since the beginning of summer they've visited our kitchen sink every morning and now, a solid week with not a single ant. Some mornings it was just a couple of scouts checking to see what scraps awaited them in the bottom of the sink. Other times there'd be a full battalion streaking back and forth between the bottom of the kitchen window and something tasty left on a plate. I am surprised I didn't catch on sooner as finding the ants in the sink was built into the morning regimen: 1. Make coffee with the Italian creamer that we managed to do with out for the first 47 years of marriage but is now mandatory. 2. Do I have the energy to make eggs? 3. We are out of eggs, so toast it is. 4. Are we out of bread? 5. Or how about those little dutch rolls with the raisins that cost an arm and a leg? 6. Go to sink to wash cups for coffee. 7. What is that? 8. Go to bedroom, put on glasses and return to sink. 9. Again with the a