Seems we've settled into a pattern. Overnight rain followed by either of two scenarios; morning-to-afternoon sun, or daytime overcast and forecasts of intermittent showers. I've discovered to my dismay, resuming gardening for another blissful summer of raising beautiful annuals and coaxing perennials to bloom, that the ants that last year infested one of the garden beds have returned after all. Late last summer after their persistent predation that destroyed some of our annuals, we acquired a liquid said to be lethal to ants. Drops applied to an aluminum disposable dish (a tiny one) or a cardboard disk seemed to work.

 

And when I planted the annuals a few weeks back there was no sight of ants; I assumed the treatment had succeeded. Previously, digging into the soil at that point in the garden bed would rouse hundreds of ants scurrying out of the soil. Then, a week ago I saw the first of this year's destroyed zinnias, and realized that the colony had resisted the antecide assault and having survived were once again prospering at the expense of the plants. I even found that the new garden soil in one of our garden planters was infested with more of the tiny beasts.

This time I used very small cupcake paper forms, nailed their centers with thick toothpicks to the soil, and dropped the liquid pesticide sparingly into the forms and waited for my malign intentions to succeed. Trouble is since it rains every night and washes the papers clean, reapplication has to be done every day, and I don't yet see the problem resolving. I did, however, see plenty of ants in the paper cups enjoying the liquid.

So, there were things to be done in the kitchen, as well. And I decided since I had one large ultra-ripe banana that it would be perfect included in a batter for carrot muffins. I took one very large carrot, grated it, mashed the banana, set aside raisins, cut up tiny pieces of crystallized ginger, and prepared to bake carrot-banana muffins, topped with sliced almonds. A resounding success.

 

When we ventured out to the ravine later it was on a humid, warm and slightly windy day. Just perfect for a hike through the forest trails. Perfection, however eluded, thanks to the presence of newly-hatched mosquitoes whose larvae found perfect conditions in the pools of standing rainwater, thanks to those overnight rain events. I wore a white polka-dotted top and black pants. My upper body became immune to the mosquitoes, but my black trousers invited them to do their darndest.

Even Jackie and Jillie were harassed by the tiny predators, thanks to their black haircoats. Jillie in particular has a real hate-on for all flying insects. A large black fly, despite the care we take, managed to get into the house on one of the countless times we open the patio doors for Jackie and Jillie. They both station themselves at the doors in the house interior, waiting for the fly to perch at their level in its efforts to return to the outdoors. Our two little poodles identify flies as the 'enemy' and do their utmost to 'catch' them when they enter the house.

 

 

Down by the creek, we saw the lone Mallard drake coasting along and dabbling continually, obviously pecking away at floating vegetable detritus, and verbalizing his gratitude continually. Jackie and Jillie have become accustomed to seeing the Mallards; so far a pair, plus the lone drake that we think is an offspring of the other Mallard drake and its companion hen. When I attempted to photograph him, I discovered my camera battery unresponsive.

 

Just a few moments before, I had taken a few photographs of a Jack-in-the-Pulpit on the interior forest floor; I find them irresistible, reminding me of when I was an elementary school child 80 years ago, and during natural science classes geared toward my age group at the time were photographic exposures to Ontario wildflowers in season. Even then, as a child, I thought the Jacks were so exotic with their single-hooded petal hiding an interior of striped purple and pale green.