The ants go marching...

When the weather gets warmer the ants begin to move in. The song says that they do it two by two, but they seem to be doing it in groups of three and five. They possess no real decorum as they crawl about the floor. Miserable creatures really ants if that's the best they can muster. One expects this sort of thing from worms and beetles, but I can't emphasize how much disdain I now have for those little soldiers of yore.

S spent the majority of the evening on her hands and knees spraying vinegar on bits of ants. I fear the woman will not be sane until they've been eradicated. She has a bit of a weak spot where things of this nature are concerned a sort of inability to leave the topic at hand. A problem from which I suffer very little. I am always ready to drop the task at hand and pour myself a cold drink or watch an episode of something funny. In fact, I disdain not only the ants, but those sorts of folks incapable of living with them. It's really a slight problem dear friends, I remember spraying hundreds of them with cans of Pledge as a child. Here we're only dealing with a few wagon trains full, making their way out to Oregon. I believe that for the next month or so, or as long as the little fellows decide to take up residence on our floors, I'll be hearing Hamlet-esque soliloquies on the ills of ants.

Suggestions:

Black Pepper-I believe I witnessed a pair of them carrying a bit of it off as if they'd discovered some old treasure and were eager to bring it back to their queen.

Cinnamon clove-We only have one, so even if they are deterred by the smell it is surprisingly easy for them to shuffle on by and find a new means of ingress.

Caulk-As it turns out ants are extraordinarily small, and caulking every spare portion of your kitchen only gives them new means to display their ingenuity. I fear they feel less an impediment and more a chance to show their talents.

Vinegar-I don't know if the vinegar is having any affect on them beyond delivering an impromptu bath, but I believe the swift hand of justice that follows bearing a wad of paper towels certainly does some sort of trick though I am concerned that one of them asked us for the way back to the bean stock.

Boiling Water-Yes. I've begun to try and repel them as if they were an army from the middle ages, flaming arrows are soon to follow, though I fear that setting the grass on fire may be an unintended effect. I read online, impeccable sourcing that, that it is kinder than pesticides. I suppose being burned alive is perhaps preferable to being poisoned, though at that point perhaps we are just splitting hairs. Anyhow, I dumped a pot of boiling water down the only visible ant hole, no doubt sending at least ten of them to their premature deaths while the remaining colony members quickly hastened from their lair outside and into a tunnel which lead directly into our kitchen.

Obsessphanie-This appears to be the most effective method because it deploys all energy and mental fortitude towards the task of exterminating said ants, disdaining all of the other comforts of food, drink, companionship, and sanity on a neverending quest to find and destroy ants.

Though the last is a passable home remedy if anyone else has suggestions they are certainly welcomed. Remember, we're not really dealing with much of an infestation here yet, just a few hundred travelers making what is perhaps a pilgrimage to portions of our kitchen and underneath the stove. I mean, if we could communicate and that's what the little fellows were up to I'd happily clear them a path to their weeping Madonna and sell water along the way. But until we are able to reach across the gap that spans our two noble species, chaotic marching aside, I fear that we will be at odds.