Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Spiders, anyone?

This was written as a Facebook note on Friday,August 26th.

Okay, I am going to admit it. I am feeling quite proud of myself. I posted last night on my Facebook profile that our porch was covered with spiders. The fat, hanging-around-the-porch-light-w/the-bugs type of spiders. At one point, I counted over 25 of them. Grace and I were heading out to put the recycling bin to the curb. We decided that it could wait another week. Several of the spiders had gotten inside (How?!) and with a fair bit of squealing and waving of rolled up newspapers, we managed to squish them all. But the outside ones...

I resolved to go out today to buy some heavy-duty spider killing spray. Forget organic. We've got no time for organic. I came home with the meanest can of bug spray I could find. Grace is heading to Vermont for the week-end with her dad, so I waited until they left and headed out to the porch with the spray, a broom and a series of deep breathing exercises designed to keep me from having a coronary collapse in the midst of my arachnacidic duties. And yes, I made up the word arachnacidic. Because I can. :)

Apparently, after a night of gorging on the bugs attracted to my yellow, bug-free porch light, spiders crawl into the nooks and crannies of my porch roof for a long day of slumber. Not surprisingly, when I began spraying the uber-lethal spider spray into every nook and cranny I could find, the little darlings woke up. And came out. In droves. Drunken, wobbly, fat, leggy droves. I shrieked and jumped backwards off of the porch. Stood in front of the porch, peering carefully up at the ceiling. Did a little shake-the spiders-off dance. I think I may even have moaned a bit. Wondered out loud how long it would take them to die. Then, I decided that I didn't have the time. With a broom, I started sweeping the swaying, dying spiders off of the ceiling, squishing them on the floor with the mop and stomping on the ones that managed, somehow, to stumble away.

I sprayed again. More came out. I squealed and jumped again. Muttered, mumbled, moaned, prayed, swatted countless imaginary spiders out of my hair, swept, squished and stomped.

Repeat as necessary.

This went on for three more sprays. I won't lie to you. As I write this, my skin is literally crawling. I brushed my hair into a sleek ponytail, so I know that there are no spiders in there. I have checked under my shirt repeatedly. I'm going by faith now.

And, dear reader, if you are the sort of person who likes to remind people like me that a fear of spiders is irrational, rest easy. I know that the fear of one spider is not rational. The fear of 25 fat, furry spiders falling from the porch roof onto my head, on the other hand, is completely rational. Spock-rational. Seriously. Don't ask me why. It just is.

My point is, despite my considerable fear, I managed to do what needed to be done. When I last peered outside, there were a few more spiders that had wandered out of their hiding spots, presumably to die. I don't hate spiders. In fact, I find them fascinating. Last night I spent several moments watching a spider navigate the miracle of his web to get to the small flying insects that he had managed to snare. I see the genius of creation, the intricate design, the wonder of nature. All this drama was taking place just outside my door window. One spider, building a web, catching bugs, living life, is interesting. Bringing 24 of his buddies along, and it becomes a nightmare. A nightmare that I, with a lot of prayer and faith, was able to walk through and deal with. I am grateful. And proud.

Not that it's over. To tell the truth, I have a feeling I just managed to kill the stupid ones. Or the impulsive ones, at least. I'm pretty sure that there are more tucked away, waiting for nightfall. If there is, I'm ready for them. I am armed to the teeth, locked and loaded.

If you live in Huntingdon,and you hear a commotion going on, it'll probably be me. Shrieking, jumping and mumbling my way through another spider battle. Don't grumble, though. Remember, every spider I kill here is a spider that won't show up on your doorstep looking for dessert!

You're welcome. :)

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