Twice a week I cycle to the grocery in Ydby, a thirty-minute ride through the woods. My bike is a gold model with the word ‘MOSQUITO’ on its frame. The brand name acts as a reminder that my ant problem remains unsolved.
I am reading the collected essays of Orhan Pamuk, who writes: ‘words [...] are like ants. Nothing can penetrate into the cracks, holes, and invisible gaps of life as fast as words can.’ I can tell that Orhan Pamuk has some experience of ants. I hope he will go on to say something useful about them, but to my disappointment the remainder of the essay is mostly about words.
Anna emails me a link: How To Kill Indoor Ants Naturally. The site recommends leaving white vinegar, bay leaves, garlic cloves, peppermint teabags or cucumber slices in places the ants frequent. Sprinkling lines of cayenne pepper, cinnamon and lemon juice under doors and windows has also been known to help. Or I could try piles of crushed dried mint leaves and freshly ground cloves in my store cupboards.
Since my cupboard contains little more than teabags, porridge oats and salt I’m concerned that I will have to make a special trip to the grocery just for the ants. But something must be done – if I continue to exterminate them using my notebook, there will be no room for any words.
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