Ants Redux

OK, so these are leaf-cutter ants, not the odorous house
ants I was battling, but you get the picture.

Update: They left.


But they'll be back.

And the non-harming remedies didn't work.  Not a one of them.  At least not on this crew.

Cinnamon sticks at their entry point?  They just went around.

Cinnamon sprinkled on their trails?  Confused them for all of thirty seconds and might possibly have tickled their toes, but then they just marched right through it.

Cayenne, then chili powder, then black pepper sprinkled on their trails?  Ditto.

I did find their entryway and tried to soap it closed, but that didn't help much.  The ants simply found another little crack in the floor/wall joint right nearby.  I'd have to soap the entire wall, in a closet no less, and that just didn't seem reasonable.  Perhaps that was my own fail though: A bit more time and effort with the soap, or warming up some wax and dripping it into the length of the closet floor, might have forced them to find a different entryway and bought me at least a few days sans the little critters.

Instead, as their numbers amassed and their trails got longer and longer on the kitchen counter, I caved and put out one of those Terro type ant baits right next to their entryway.  A few hours later: no more ants.

So then, does anyone out there know of a better way to discourage ants that doesn't require killing some of them?

I know about all the preventative measures and we've continued to practice impeccable kitchen-cleaning now that it's ant season in the Pacific Northwest, but every year they seem to come back through some new entryway every month....

MFB, with a lot more ground to gain,
L

Ants

This morning I woke up to fog and frost, the rumbling ruckus of the recycling trucks rolling down our neighbors' cul de sac, and ants.

All over the kitchen counter.  Amassed in ranks and scattered blindly about, intentional and random, skittering and, well, marching. 

"So today it begins," I thought, as I reached under the sink for the eco-friendly lavender-scented 'household cleaner'.  "It" being the nine-months' invasion of the stinky little black buggers who pop up here, then there, and who - like dandelions and blackberry bushes - spend 100% of their daily intention on taking over my resources to grow their population while I can only afford a scant five minutes here or there to amass my munitions and mount the occasional counter-attack.

But this morning, attack I did.  All over that counter.  A hundred ants met their demise, at least.  And it felt good to do them in.  I relished it.  Squirt, wipe; squirt, wipe; squirt, wipe, toss.  The ones in the coffee maker went first.  Then the ones on the counter by the cutting boards, then the trail to the stove - oh, so that's where they're coming from this time, eh? - then the (oh, ug!) picnic gathering 'round the one crumb under the plate, and finally the litter sucking at the trough of a tiny half-mooned, half-sponged ring of milk from yesterday afternoon's latte.  It felt great, actually, to wash the last few dishes in the sink and then sop the counters with soapy water until they gleamed again, pristinely ant-free.

Of course, by the time the morning coffee had finished perking and one last ant had scurried up and out of the steaming carafe, I'd lost the will to kill.  I simply watched as that one little survivor scurried away under the counter's lip rather than hunt her down and do her in. 

Admittedly, we've been sick, so although we did rinse all the dishes and wipe the counter last night, our half-skillful efforts contributed to the gathering of the little black annoyances and to this moment's (ever so slight) twinge of regret.

So is there a way to stem the six-legged tide without regressing to such carnage?  Apparently.  Perhaps.