some things go better with coke

There is a blog protocol that goes something like this. Writing on the same topic two days in a row is readership death.

It makes sense  Most readers like fresh topics.  Redundancy causes the mind to wander

So, I proceed with caution.  This is not another ant blog.  It is -- well, something else.

The ground floor of my house is a veritable Serengeti.  While reading on my couch, I can glance down and see all sorts of wildlife wandering by.  Spiders.  Geckos.  Scorpions.  Lizards.  Now and then the odd crab.

And ants.  Not the leaf cutter ants.  These ants are larger.  Always solitary.  And, at certain times of year, a flying variety of the same ant appears. 

What is strange is that I have only encountered them inside my house.  Never out.  I have developed a good eye for identifying ants.

This past week, I must have killed close to twenty flying ants.  Mainly in my bedroom.  They seem to be attracted to the light when I read at night.  Or maybe they want to learn more about the Borgias.

Last summer I bought two cartons of Diet Lime Coke in Morelia and brought them back with me.  It is my favorite soft drink -- and unavailable in Melaque.

Because it is so rare, I have been rationing it.  To avoid temptation, I stored the cartons on the top of my refrigerator.

Last night, I pulled down the partially-filled carton, and noticed a couple of the mystery ants on the box.  When I looked closer, there must have been about thirty of the ants on the top of my refrigerator.  A quick Raid shot put an end to their former formicine existence.

To get a better look at the top of the refrigerator, I also pulled down the full carton. When I put it on the counter, I could hear the distinct sound of rustling.  Inside the box.

Any fan of horror films is now yelling: "Don't open it."  But, just like the actors on screen, I ignored the film fan in my head.

And the moment I opened the box, there were ants everywhere.  Flying.  Scurrying.  Carting off eggs.

Yes, eggs.  Ant eggs.  Because I had just torn open an ant nest.  And the inhabitants were pouring out like snakes in an Indiana Jones movie.

There was no time for shock or surprise.  I grabbed the Raid and started firing strategically.  Of course, it was the kitchen, so almost everything is now covered with a film of pesticide.  Not to mention ant corpses.  And enough eggs to whip up a gourmet omelet.

The appearance of the ants is still unsolved.  Maybe I brought a nest of them into the house from Morelia -- or wherever the cartons came from -- a year ago. 

But I have seen that variety of ant in the house even before the Diet Lime Coke made its appearance.  It is just as likely that local ants merely established a cozy little condominium for rearing their young.

Tonight the survivors are scurrying through the house.  While I do my cleanup operation.

And if this is the last I see of them, the mystery will be solved.

So, there you have it.  It is not an ant tale; it is a murder mystery.  And I haven't ruined the surprise ending for you.

It is still to be written.