I’m pretty sure my twenty four hour day is seventeen hours long or less. Am searching for friendly time–scientists or mathematicians who will affirm this hypothesis. Consequently, last month is regularly where I think I am. Thinking last month was January of this year, I literarily let So I See blog slip by unattended. Chasing March, at a rapid pace, I am inclined to over do it a bit. Here is Auntie Ant from February, having littered the desktop and printer all month. I suspect March blogs may be hard to stop.
This morning, when I turned on my computer to write, or not, a tiny ant skittered out of MacBook’s keyboard. I thought, Oh dear, what now? Do I have to eliminate this sweet thing?” (Shamefully, I’ve done it before when a whole colony insisted on living in my Almond Butter.)
Today was different, she, or he, all alone, walking the keyboard, like a labyrinth–it’s cute! I feel friendly, compassionate, imagining giving her a name and appropriate housing in which we can visit now and then. Perhaps we could share tiny bits of Almond Butter. I would make her an official “she” and name her Auntie Ant. She will live peacefully with Olive, my pet snail, in Olive’s giant mayonnaise jar,
So, I gently chased her off the keyboard labyrinth onto an unfolded piece of white paper with a poem on it. I walk her through the hallway to the dining table where Olive lives most of the time, noticing Auntie Ant’s remarkable ability to skitter over one side of the paper to the other–back and forth, again and again.
Opening the lid to Olive’s domain, I flicked Auntie Ant off the paper, onto the moist, rich, organic soil into, what I now call, Best Foods Park. She has disappeared, of course, I’m not worried because she has Olive’s organic lettuce for now and when I take time off, I’ll add a little Almond Butter expecting to see Auntie Ant in the near future.
The story isn’t over. A few minutes into the rest of this jotting, another tiny ant came right out of the G key. I thought “How sweet, now Auntie Ant has a companion whom I will declare an official “he” and call him Uncle Ant. He was satisfied to skitter my left hand from backside to front, finger to thumb on our way to Best Foods Park where I flicked him in.
Hmm, now, after 40 minutes,10 tiny ants have emerged from MacBook’s keyboard. I am stupefied by my naivety. I can’t imagine what they are doing inside little Mac! So far, they haven’t destroyed anything. I’ll just deny it for now–pretend it’s not happening. It would take a long time for them to get to the Almond Butter from here.
Norma Edythe Heyser, 2/2/20