I've seen nature documentaries showing how clever ants are, carrying things way bigger than they are over their little heads back to their colonies. And leaving trails so they know where they are and how to get back to the homestead. But the ants in my yard are so stupid! Every week we go through the same thing, they build their ant house right where the big human killing machine is going to come mow right over and kill them. And then the murderous human pushing the big machine is going to come back and put poison to polish them off.
Now, there is a woodline two feet over from the mowed area where they like to gather, and if they'd just move their operation over by two feet, we'd be living sympatico. I could mow and wave hello, how's the babies, how's mom, good, great.....have a nice ant day. But NO, they have got to put the colony a foot the other way where the nice mowed grass is.
If I were in the ant colony I'd revolt against the head house hunter in charge of finding a spot for the new colony, and I'd commit mutany! You're a terrible house picker, you get us killed every week. I think he's a sadistic little ant, he hears the killing machine coming, goes deep under the ant housing project and holds his little nose and closes his little eyes because he knows what's coming. Just about everybody but him gets killed, and then he starts over again.
Maybe the ants in the Amazon are advanced, but the ones in my yard are dumb as dirt.
Same with the wasps, we go through this every year. There is that nice wooded area where they could built some huge nests and I'd never bother them. But NO, they have to go the roof eaves route again. I guess they figure the group one inch over that got killed and poisoned last year weren't so smart, but one inch over is a better idea. Wrong again!
Whats a human to do? I don't want to kill them, I try logic and say......look....a beautiful woodline right there two feet over for you. Move it over dumbasses and we wouldn't have this problem.
Just got in from mowing, and a murderous rampage.



