Fire! Fire! Fire!

An homage to Beavis and Butthead, some may think. But alas, it's more pedestrian than that. It's just fire ants. At least that's what I think they're called. The other day, some monkeys were hanging out in trees close to the house. One of them pulled down a decent-sized branch that fell on the driveway. I went over to clear it off, not remembering that this particular kind of tree attracts ants that bite. I picked it up, and chucked it into the jungle. The next morning, my right thumb was swollen up pretty good and there was a nice red welt where one of the rotten little buggers had bitten me. OK, lesson learned. Two days later, I was with Kenneth, putting up new signs for the Tree Houses Hotel. I was wearing running shoes with socks and shorts, Kenneth in his usual long pants and rubber boots. About 3-4 minutes into the job, Kenneth looked down and yelled "Ormigas!". . . Me being the Spanish wiz that I am, thought he was looking for his friends (amigas). Turns out, ormigas are ants. And they were all over my shoes, socks and feet. . . I got chewed up pretty bad by the time I pulled off my shoes and socks. I was doing a little not-so-happy jig all the while, which Kenneth found amusing. OK, another lesson learned. Three hours later, a different sign, a different location. . . We were trying to shear off a short screw so we could hang the sign, so we laid it on the ground. I, naturally, put my hand into a pile of more ants and got my left hand gnawed on. Not sure if things will start to swell like the thumb (sure hope not, that will frighten folks) but do not mess with the little critters, they pack a powerful bite. The best way to ease the pain, I was told, is to douse yourself in rubbing alcohol.