I just frantically grabbed my laundry off the line. It has been raining inconsistently for 8 days. The clothes have been on the line there for 2; occasionally drying only to be soaked before I can save them. This time I managed to save my sheets, quick dry shorts and socks. The rest will have to withstand another pounding of precipitation.
I ran back into my wooden hut to find a line of dirt leading up to the books behind my bed. The whole pile of books appeared to have a shovel load of dirt tossed on it. Termites! Who could have guessed it? Not me, it never would have entered my mind. I live in a wooden cabin for craps sake and they come and eat the books. Why are they against literature? (ok, Harry Potter and Survivor Man Les Stroud)
Also it doesn’t seem fair in my battle to keep the cabin clean, that termites come and turn my possessions into dirt. I only recently won my war against ants (Strategy #5: Dirty dishes are safe in the fridge). This is too much. As if now I have to worry about anything fibrous now? Are my cotton underwear in danger?
Right now the rain ricocheting off my metal roof lets me know that the fights is not finished.
(In follow-up, it was necessary to treat the entire cabin with a diluted poison for insects. It took the whole morning and was not pleasant work as I felt like I was poisoning my own house…and that it made the termites smarter than me. Hope I win this war.)
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