I actually ventured into the great outdoors this weekend and did some yardwork. To be precise, I edged most of the yard. Why just most and not all? Edging was much harder work than I imagined it would be, so I ran out of weekend before I could get it all done. We've been in the house since March so it hasn't been edged for at least seven months. However, I'm willing to bet that the person who'd been renting the house prior to our buying it had not edged for quite some time either. Our driveway is about a foot wider than we previously had realized. And, I uncovered another four to six inches of sidewalk.

Early on in the edging process, a little nest of red ants was stirred up. I forgot all about them until I was picking up all the clumps of turf that had been clipped away. I remembered the nest when about thirty of the little bastards began tearing into the flesh on my hands and arms. Ant bites are nasty. Within minutes of my attack, I started swelling. My face became swollen...my hands...my feet. The worst part is that the damned bites form little pustules...nasty. The bites I got on my legs at the boy scout campout a few weeks backed had finally healed, now I have a new set of wounds on my hands and arms. I keep messing with the bite on my ring finger, if it isn't already infected it will be by the end of the week. I can't stop picking at it. It is either itching or throbbing.

Curse you damned red ants!