I was just out in my backyard and saw an ant mound, the ants are red and look like they have a stinger on the back end. I didn't get too close as I did not want stung. I didn't know that they were this far north.
I suppose I need to commit genocide.
I was standing over my approach to a par 4 after a really good drive, slight dog leg right, on some muni golf course in Ft. Lauderdale, 1994 or so. About 120 to the front, pin in the middle of the green. Perfect angle, perfect, full on pitching wedge. If I hit it good, it will be on the front, short leaves an easy chip or even a putt, open in the front, pretty flat, long is on the green, really good is pin high, bunker on the back. Perfect set up. Perfect. Line it up...a couple waggles, take it away, low and slow...smooth...get to the top....transition...start to unwind INTO the ball and.....................
HOLYMOTHER####INGHELL!!! Who poured gasoline on my legs? And lit it????
Looked down as I began a little dance, and there it was. My first meeting with fire ants.