The ants arrived yesterday. The clear plastic ant farm has been ready well over a week, as has L: she has been waiting for them impatiently, checking daily, and consistently frustrated with the ant-free mailbox. We put them in the fridge yesterday to slow them down — in accordance with the directions — and found them to be mostly lethargic most of the day afterward.
This morning, we awoke to find they’d been busy overnight, digging a fresh, clean tunnel under the plastic divider, which theoretically divides the above ground from the below. They’d piled the food we’d given them high with sand and were busily making the tunnel even deeper.
We went about our normal Sunday: Mass, a nice lunch, some relaxation.
A late-afternoon trip to the pool ended quickly when L decided the water was entirely too cold. We spent some time at Nana’s and Papa’s place instead, with me falling asleep on the couch as usual.
Returning to a lovely sunselt, we found the ants had been busier than we all could have believed they would be. And suddenly, a famous passage made much more sense:
Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest. (Proverbs 6:6-8)
Perhaps Solomon had an ant farm himself…
