The ant war of 2004 is on

So far, ants, 1, Halls, 0.

Florida is a freakish place for insects. In Missouri, there's probably not a bug to be found right now. When it freezes or snows, people say, "Good. Maybe it will kill the bugs for next summer."

In Florida, the only thing that kills bugs is poison. Lots and lots of poison. You can do everything right -- clean off the counters, tightly seal all food, remove any standing water, and you'll still have a pest control contract.

We have Patrick the Bug Man. That's not a fun name I've given him. He's twice introduced himself this way: "Hi. I'm Patrick. The bug man." As though his uniform and tank of pesticide wouldn't be enough to identify him.

Patrick came over just a week ago to remove the roach and ant population from our new house. Of course, The Other Half and I made a dent in the ant population by inadvertently eating them on Chicken-In-A-Biscuit crackers. We still get nauseated thinking about it, although I'm told ants are delicacies in some nations -- the same nations where people are dead by age 28.

We felt pretty good about Patrick's first visit É we didn't see ants for two whole days after. Then they started invading the Kashi. I didn't mind that quite as much because of the low fat/high fiber content of Kashi vs. Chicken-In-A-Biscuit crackers. Still, it was only a matter of time before they discovered the good food.

Patrick the Bug Man was back on Monday with a sidekick who revealed neither his name nor his title. They sprayed again and had more advice: use ammonia-based products to clean because it throws ants off the scent of food.

Great, now we're trying to outsmart them. Shouldn't just killing them be enough? I don't want to engage in a battle of wits with these creatures.

I used to admire ants. They're industrious. They can carry multiple times their own weight. They have a highly structured society where all individuals communicate and work together for the good of the whole.

Now I just want them dead. Is that too much to ask?

There's an exciting new front in the insect war. Our neighbor says he spied termites on our pine tree out back.

"I sprayed the heck out of 'em, but they'll burrow underground," he said.

"What did you use?" I asked.

"Ah, just something I had lying around here," he said. "I really can't remember what it is."

Great. We should all be sterile in no time. But there's no war without casualties. I accept that.

Heidi Hall is a former managing editor of the Southeast Missourian who now lives in St. Petersburg, Fla.