It was attack of the rampaging flying ant hordes day yesterday on Snow Brigade Farm.

Once, as a boy, I was delivering newspapers to an old peoples home. Whilst not wearing my glasses, I saw some small things on the floor of a dark corridor reflecting in the dawn light and naturally assumed 'oh, someones stepped on and shattered a potractor, or at a push a small set square'. Before I was able to think 'Hang on, what would the residents of a nursing home need with suchrudimentary mathematical equipment' I had waded up to the items which turned out to be an emerging horde of flying ants. ANT ATTACK!

I ran away and my Dad had to deliver those papers.

ANTS.