there's nothing like playing with a mortar and pestle to make you feel like a witch. okay - there's nothing like playing with a mortar and pestle that makes ME feel like a witch. particularly when its smashing up eggshells to nourish my garden. my dear friends rose and ruth gave me some advice on how to deal with the ants invading my thyme garden - ruth suggested asking them to go away, and rose suggested a sugar-salt-eggshell combination to both nourish the soil AND make the suggestion more potent.
i decided to leave out the salt. sowing the ground with salt raises unhappy memories of latin class - the romans sowed the soil of carthage with salt after they destroyed everything to make sure nothing else could grow there. and without the salt, the ants don't need sugar.
so im brewing up my eggshells - libby wondered why we had breakfast for dinner every night this week - adding a bit of old dried comfrey i found at the bottom of my herb chest, as well as a bit of cinquefoil to strengthen the concoction times five. im letting it simmer and then i'll dilute by a few watering cans full of water.
then i'll add it to the thyme and the other herb beds... and very strongly ask the ants to please take their colonies Somewhere Else - like, say, anywhere on the other side of the ponds.
and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.