August 27, 2017

Hi-Desert Breadbox

7:48am. 
Because it’s Sunday, I decide to sleep in. I still have yesterday’s headache. I let the dog out and go back to bed.

8:03 am. 
I’m unable to sleep in. I boil water for coffee. Based on experience, this is day 2 of a 3.5 day migraine. I made fresh guacamole yesterday for Michelle and Caroline, but forgot to offer it to them. I also forgot that I was testing out my breadbox. Inside was a new loaf of store-bought bread still wrapped in plastic, an opened bag of tortilla chips, with the top folded down a couple of times to seal in freshness, and a small cup containing a few tortilla chips basking sans wrapper in the tidy confines of the breadbox. 

8:04 am.
I open the breadbox and scream. Inside was a legion of ants crawling all over my breadbox test subjects. In succession, I douse the entire counter and breadbox with organic ant killer, vinegar, peppermint soap, cedar oil, and more vinegar. Next I wipe the floor down and take the party outside. Lighting fast observations: The cup of exposed chips is covered in ants. The bag of open, but loosely sealed bag of chips, is also creeping me out. I scrutinize the six dollar loaf of unopened bread thoroughly. I transfer the sliced bread to a Ziploc bag and place the bag in the fridge. Fuck freshness. I mist the counter with cedar oil once more and vacuum. 

10 am.
I re-boil my water for the 3rd time and finally make coffee. I still have a migraine. The coffee tastes funny, but I am ant free for now. I burn sage and wave it over the killing fields. The breadbox sits empty and open. Outside by the trashcan there's a hermetically sealed trash bag full of ants gorging themselves silly on fucking chips.

11 am.
I open the six dollar loaf of bread and carefully look for any signs of life. Satisfied there is none, I decide guacamole on toast will help my migraine. The toast is fine. The guac is fine, but I still have a migraine.

1:38 pm
I try recuperating in every room of the house. Currently I’m on the couch tucked away from the sunlight. It’s dark even though it's a beautiful day outside. Since the morning coffee tasted awful, I’m having iced this afternoon. I’ve never had my taste buds affected by a headache, but it could have been the combination of organics this morning. Fun fact: ants have a chemical compound that can cause blindness. I rub my eyes a lot these days. Floaters, ants. I take nothing for granted. 

2:35 pm. 
Earlier in the week I rsvp’d to a film screening to be held tonight. I was looking forward to this event, but it requires I use my eyes. Why can’t migraines affect your elbows or little toes? Because: 
migraine. late 14c., megrim, from Old French migraigne (13c.), from vulgar pronunciation of Late Latin hemicrania "pain in one side of the head, headache," from Greek hemikrania, from hemi- "half" + kranion "skull" (see cranium).

2:47 pm.
Latin class is over. Time for another nap. I try a yoga mat on the floor. Child's pose, then Shavasana, also known as corpse pose. I use an eye pillow, but my body is restless. I backtrack and try and pinpoint what triggered the migraine. 

4:28 pm
I change out of my pajamas. Sort of. Switched tops. I've eaten most of the guac and five slices of six dollar bread by now. Coffee's not doing it today, so I've been hydrating  with water in between naps. The migraine is still there, but knowing I'm possibly over the worst of it, I feel like I can stay in an upright position for 30 minutes at a time. The eyes are tired though and I can't focus. 

4: 35 pm 
I feed Agnes and eat the remaining guac on toast for my own dinner. 

7:15pm
I miss the film screening. One day I will rip out that granite counter top that camouflages the ants. I don't know what wlll become of the breadbox. 


August 16, 2017

Metaphor

I can’t do much today. I live in the desert and have a major ant colony about 20 feet from my door. If that were the only one, I’d be chill, but it’s not. Agnes is small and blind and I’m a helicopter mom, so I look at swarms of ants with distrust. I’m also a buddhist, so technically I don’t kill things. Instead, I have a bag of organic insect stuff that I sprinkle around the exterior of the house. It smells like spearmint. The word “kill” is on the package. Even so, I’m not sure there will be a day when I’ll be able to camp outside under the stars. I notice when I try and keep them at bay, more ants rally around. It's freaky. 


I dug holes today. I started early. I’m not an archeologist by training, but the mounds on the other side of the fence have gotten the best of my curiosity. 
Green plastic beads
Rusty tools
Roofing material
Bricks
Astroturf remnants
A small plastic stake identifying a plant 
Golf ball


The previous owners used the back of the property as a dumping ground for downed trees and limbs. I’m working on rehabilitating it. It will take some time, but some of the debris has turned to mulch and maybe I can plant things. 

It's over.

Nov 7, 2020. Tears of joy and relief. It's been unreal and I'm ready to get back to a sense of normalcy. The desert has been tough.