The fire ants' revenge

I have more or less succeeded in clearing my yard of fire ants. None of the old mounds appears active, and I haven't seen any new mounds appearing.

Unfortunately, they're still around in others' yards, and that has rather killed my humor regarding the situation. During a rainstorm Sunday past, I went to inspect something in my yard. While discussing it with my father, I felt the fire ants' unforgettable touch of love. I brushed them off my feet, but it was too late. Blessed be God, I received only three stings.

I have no idea what these ants had against me, since I was standing on my neighbor's driveway, and couldn't see any mounds nearby. Perhaps I've made a name for myself in the ant neighborhood. Perhaps they were just mad about the rain and figured any giant pink mammal would do.

Whatever the cause, I now have two small reminders of the event, along with one nasty-looking, fluid-filled, swollen ball. They itch like mad, and I'm not touching them. Wearing shoes aggravate them. All I can do is wait, I reckon.

I like the warm weather down here, contrasted to, say, Canada. But the fire ants do give one pause.