Not only did my favourite armchair offer up my lost engagement ring today, but several hours later I got up at what was obviously a very opportune moment after watching Doc Martin, arguably the best thing on the box at the moment. Came back with some munchies to find a huntsman spider trekking up the back of the chair and stopping right where my head had been just moments before.
With uncharacteristic bravery, and to make sure he also wasn’t go to find a hidey hole in the chair, I grabbed the nearest cloth, dumped it on him, scrunched him up in it and deposited him at the bottom of the back steps in a shriveled heap, where I was pleased to see he didn’t uncurl to his former glory. Fortunately he wasn’t full grown, probably a teenage huntsman, and like most teenagers getting walloped with a teatowel was probably an appropriate means of discipline.
Not to be outdone, on the way to bed I spotted a suspicious character lurking on the ceiling in the passage. Fished him down with the broom, gave him a thorough inspection as he was decent enough to sit still, only to discover my first white tail spider of the season. He ended up squooshed on the laundry floor. They’re nasty little fellas, have no compunction in disposing of them.
Which reminded me of the incident the other day when I picked up my track pants which had ended up in the bath where I’d left them after my last morning walk. The plan was to head out again, when something caught my eye. Gingerly opening the waist of the pants there in all its innocence was a house spider, not a monster but big enough to cause trouble. Must admit I was kinder to him and shook him free outside, as I wasn’t go to be held responsible for what the neighbours may have seen if I’d got halfway round the block and felt something crawling up my leg. Could’ve been an interesting sight over the morning coffee.
Please, oh please don’t let all of this mean I’m going to have another summer of confrontations with our eight legged fellow creatures. The summer of two years ago is still fresh in my memory, adding to my long history of not quite arachnophobia but arachna…something, and I’m trusting today’s incidents are not the instigation of the insect kingdom’s revival of its hit list out on me.
I guess all I can do is live in hope, and arm myself with surface spray.
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