Spiders give me the creeps. I live in a state of uneasy truce with them; what with all the fiber arts I do or have done over the years, they are one of my totem critters. Besides, I don't like killing things unnecessarily (I used to trap mice live. Used to trap 'em dead, too, when the infestations got too bad, but always hated that.) On the other hand, I really don't like them. I assume if the Goddess wants them to survive, she will divert them if they try to come in my house. They're fair game if they get in my way! Often, I will leave them alone if they are up high in a corner somewhere--if they want to sit waaaay up there out of reach and eat bugs, fine.

I couldn't leave one sitting on a dresser long enough to set up shop. Not that there's not dust enough to attract them on some of the furniture around here! :) And the type that spin those funnel shaped webs I find especially creepy.

The other day I went out to the laundry room--when you go out the back door from my kitchen, you find yourself on a little staircase. At the foot of the staircase, you can go left and you're in the laundry room/work room; go right and you're outside. Straight ahead, if you go past the back door to the outside, is the door to the garage (which is mostly storage at the moment, as is most of the work room area). I went out and put in some laundry the other day, and on my way back in, I noticed that there was a neat little funnel web tucked into a corner on the next-to-bottom step--complete with visible spider parts just sticking out. Eeeuuuww! And me barefoot! My first impulse was to get a stick and evict it with extreme prejudice. Then I decided it was kind of in no-woman's-land tucked away in there; not quite outside, but not quite inside either. So I left it there--although I fear for my little bare toes every time I go out there without shoes. I look carefully before I step! But I hope that it is eating bugs that would otherwise find their way into the house, and if it is, it's doing me a favor.

So, I was sitting here a few minutes ago, and a movement of something small and dark catches my eye, on the wall next to me, just along the edge of my poor disintegrating Historical Map of the United States. I look up, and less than a foot away, there is a big ol' black spider. Holy Crap!! I leaped up and grabbed the first book I could lay my hands on. *SPLAT* and the crumpled up body of the arachnid clung there for a moment and then tumbled in slow motion to the floor, landing in a multi-legged heap in some carpet fuzz and paper scraps. I scooped up the debris, fuzz and all, and unceremoniously deposited it in the trash can.

Sometimes you can take this living in harmony with our fellow creatures shit just too far.

(From an e-mail message sent August 18, 2004)