There is a tiny hole in the backdoor screen I've been meaning to repair since last fall. What's that old line about the road to hell and good intentions?
...
Anyway, the evening was nice and cool so I opened the backdoor to enjoy the night air while I sat at the computer catching up with blogs. I noticed a few of the smaller flying insects and a couple of moth-like creatures, about 6mm or 7mm, flitting about, making a slight nuisance of themselves. No big deal, really. I don't mind sharing my space with a couple of little bugs, as long as they don't bite or bring the plague in on their tiny little feet.
...
Out of the corner of my eye, I see what I think is one of the moths flying low just above the cord to my phone charger, which dangles down from the top shelf of the desk to the bottom one. Moving rather oddly for a flying insect, I think to myself. I reach for my glasses, the hair at the back of my neck beginning to stand up. That primitive brain is already poised for danger, telling my feet to get ready to take my body out of harm's way.
...
Holy crap, it's a SPIDER!!!
...
Oh, good god, look at the size of that thing! And it's walking this way! Oh, geeze, oh geeze, ogeeze-ogeeze-ogeeze! Here it comes!
...
Do I kill it or just get out of the way? KILL IT--KILL IT!! You have to ASK!?!
...
A slightly used tissue leaps into my hand and I strike with rattlesnake precision at the spider the size of a shetland now doing the fireman slide down the cord.
...
"I'm sorry, geeze, I am so sorry! Please forgive me."
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Squish-squish-smack, grind and squish.
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"Please forgive me, spider!"
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Shudder, shake and squirm. Pulled three or four more tissues from the box at once, wrap them around the dead (god, please let this thing be dead, I'm begging you, pleasepleaseplease!) spider.
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I shiver in the chair, the adrenalin coursing through my body way out of proportion to the threat, long after the spider is pulverized and can do absolutely nothing to me. Sort of like how a cat's neck fur stands up long after whatever frightened it is gone, you know. The body stays on alert for about five minutes after the spider is dead. Can't help it, just made that way. At least I didn't scream this time.
...
I know that the spider was probably doing me a service by coming out of its hiding place after some of those flying bugs that came in through the hole in the screen. Can't help my reaction. It was a SPIDER! This was a wolf spider, about the size of a dime, a young one, probably didn't even have its gaboon viper fangs in yet. And I do feel contrite and remorseful and guilty...somewhat.
...
SPIDER! Hello, people! It was a honking huge, fang-bearing, too-damned-many-legs, freaking-me-out SPI-DER!
...
I'm fixing that screen first thing in the morning. As soON as all this adreNALine has run THROugh my SYStem!
(c) 2009 Martha McLemore
22 comments:
Thanks for visiting The Village.
Can you explain why your blog is The Crow ?
Villager:
The short version is that my sister in Louisiana calls me The Crow, which comes from my email address, sofie.onecrow@gmail.com.
The story behind my email name is a bit longer.
To answer your question from your blog comment, yes, I am a big fan of crows. If there is anything to reincarnation, I'd like to keep coming back as a crow the next few times.
Thank you for coming by. I enjoyed reading your blog, and will visit again.
:)
Welcome home from your sojourns, Joe.
I have more (than I want to know about) spiders living in my home, hiding in the spaces between the baseboards and the wall, in the dark recesses of the closets, in the cellar where they like to scare the heck out of me by dropping down in front of me while I load the washer. I am glad we have spiders, for "spiders are our friends," but I sometimes freak out when one gets too close and I end up committing spidercide.
I love the poem!
:D
Is it just me, or does the spider you've shown above look slightly worried??
AKA:
Probably pleading for its hairy little life!
The photo is supposed to be the face of a wolf spider, but I'll take their word for it, because there is now way I want to get that close to know for sure.
:)
I just knew it.
As soon as I saw that picture the word 'SPIDER' held me in an eight legged vice.
They do hold us in a kind of awe don't they.
I have to say that, on closer examination, the spider that leads your post looks kinda sympathetic, almost worried.
Wonderful post Martha. Made me shudder.
I now know why I'm happy to live in the UK.
John/AWB:
If I can see the spider in advance, so that I can redirect its path away from me, I'm less likely to freak. It's when they suddenly appear, running toward me, that the freakies overtake me.
Same way with snakes. However, no matter how far away from me I see a water moccasin, I will freak.
I am such a coward.
Don't you have wolf spiders in UK? Another name for them is huntsman.
:)
Apparantly we do have Wolf Spiders; I've just googled it. Ours are just 8mm across though.
Generally we think of 'House Spiders' a muddy brown creature with long legs which can get quite big in UK terms; a couple of inches across; and 'Garden Spiders'; a gaudier thing with stubbier legs but not often more than an inch across.
Sizes quoted are those I have seen. I do not want to see anything bigger.
John:
That's about the size of the ones that live in my house, except for the one last fall; it was nearer 10 or 12 mm.
That's big, I don't care how you measure it!
And I'm with you on not wanting to have/see anything larger than that!
:)
I rather like spiders.
It's swarms of bees, wasps, gnats, ants... them I get panicked and squirmy around.
Zhoen:
I can't say I like spiders, exactly, but I do value them.
I just get creeped out a little (a little?!) when we encounter each other up close.
I agree wholeheartedly with you about swarms, though!
:)
The spider was the famous anti-blasphemy breed, intent on punishing you for shortening Jesus to Jeeze and then substituting a g for the j. Spiders are nature's natural born sub-editors; they'll correct your grammar if they get as far as your computer monitor. Bad for putative poets.
Following our discussion about tools I'm disappointed you were only able to come up with something as feeble as a tissue to defend yourself with. Clearly you need to arm yourself with a tyre-iron (the word has no exact equivalent in our form of English) kept in a handy holster and only relinquished at bedtime.
For non-American readers the American monetary paradox should be explained. A spider as big as a dime (10 cents) would be a lot smaller than one as big as a nickel (5 cents). Mind you, GB has lots of monetary paradoxes of its own.
But...but, Friend BB, I killed it before I wrote the post.
As for the tissue, Spider was sliding/crawling down the charger cord when I grabbed it, and the tissue was the best tool (handiest, too) for the task. Isn't that among the characteristics that determine whether a tool works well, its suitability for the task; its efficiency, its ergonomics? In one handy (there's that word again) device - if a facial tissue can be called a device - we have flexible murder weapon, bite protection, a cord-cleaning wipe, mortuary shroud, and disposable coffin, all in one; and, when flushed down the toilet/wc, a means of eliminating all evidence of foul play, as well as removing all traces of Mr. Body. In this case, form followed function perfectly. Oh, yeah: it was cheap, too, and gentle on my skin, because it contained lotion. I rest my argument, sir.
I knew my evidence collection training would prove useful someday, just didn't think spiders would be involved.
Let me clarify my description of Mr. Body's body, the corpus arachneum(*), so to speak: I had millimeters confused with centimeters. Mr. Body's body (excluding legs) was in fact almost 2 centimeters long. If I'd been a little more scientific instead of freaked, I might have merely flattened it like a pancake, with legs extended, then measured it from tip to tip. My best guess is that my victim was about 2.5 cm or 25 mm in full length. A dime(US) is 1.8cm/18mm/1-5/8in in diameter, give or take a fraction of either measurement.
Like I said - honking huge!
(*) I don’t think this is a legitimate word...I just like the way it sounds.
:D
I retire, hoist with my own petard.
You are a good sport, BB.
:)
Thank goodness it was not a recluse brown spider! They are nasty..
Hello, Tink:
Oh, I know! My sister in Louisiana is plagued with all sorts of nasty spiders, including the recluse.
Thank you for visiting.
:)
I keep a special plastic cup, and a postcard, preferably one with quite a nice picture, with which to save them, if I can. But sometimes it's a choice between the spider and my peace of mind, and I do just what you did, squish, and apologise all the while...
Oh, thank you, Lucy, for that! It eases my conscience a wee bit to know I am not the only one.
Do you think they like the pretty pictures? Might give them something to take their minds off the cup and being transported outside.
:D
You are using my poem "Tragedy at MInibeastie Hall" on your website. It is illegal as there is copyright on it and I am the author. Nobody asked permission to use it and as it is a published poem I would be glad if you would remove it. Thank you.
Out of respect for Ms. Whitehead's wishes, I have removed Spadoman's comments here, which shared her poem and credited her as author.
I'm certain Joe Spado intended no slight, nor other harm; nor did I.
Martha
You might be glad you do not reside in Mexico, where I lived for six years. The major event of the week would be the cats finding a spider over 10cm across.
Those are fast spiders however and soon run up a wall to sit like an ornament well out of reach of the cats.
In my home, with 4.5 meter ceilings, the thing was out of my reach too--and directly over the couch I would rest on in the evenings. If I sat there, it would be behind me! Not-a-chance! No way! Never!
So I would lose the couch.
The Mexicans said to swat it with a broom. . . but what if I miss? WOW! Run like hell and worry worry worry worry---and hope the cats have got it and it's not secretly on my back.
Hiding
Waiting
Weeeeooooooo, what fear!
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