Booniverse

What the heck do I write about on Monday if I’ve written entries on Saturday and Sunday? I knew there was a reason I saved weekend stuff for your eager enjoyment on a back to work Monday. Now I have to find something that I didn’t talk about Saturday or Sunday and that’s pretty much nothing.

Oh, the shpiiiidar. I forgot about Mr. Eat My Toes Off spider. Gahh. Come to think of it, it was a spidery kind of day yesterday what with the pusy white hitchhiker and later the floor monster. I am spider woman but not in the cool way.

Really, there isn’t much to tell about the pussy white hitchhiker other than I ran into its web leaving DQ’s place. Maybe it was more I bulldozed the foundations because the bit I ran into was connecting the house with my truck. That would be the same truck that wasn’t there two hours earlier. Sometimes it’s a wonder where people will build their houses (Hi, you guys there on the Mississippi Flood plain? Yeah, just wondering if you were listening) but I guess if the truck stops long enough it’s an anchor point.

So I ran through the anchor line, which was annoying in the same way a bit of fly away hair is annoying, and sputtered my way to the door. I’m not so much the freak-out type when I run into webs because webs seldom get up and skitter all over your face. That’s not to say I want to go traipsing through a web infested woods or anything but webs themselves are just sticky (and tickly) nuisances. It’s when the spiders themselves get all freaked out and go rampaging around for some nice dark safe place (Hi, Mr. Spider, that would be my cleavage you are heading towards NOT a safe cave as you might suppose) that I get a little anxious. I like spiders and I think they are the ultimate cool critter I just don’t like them on me when I’m not expecting them. That’s all.

Sadly, this story is not going where you all think it’s going. I found the web builder crouched on the outside of the truck door (no doubt planning to hang on and wait for federal aid to bail its poor planning spider ass out of the current predicament) so I got into the inside and drove off. I got about three feet down the driveway before I had to remove the scooter the neighbor kids had dumped off at the foot of the drive and by the time I got back, Mr. What The Heck Happened To My House spider was gone. Of course I spent the entire mile drive back to TheMan’s house twitching and itching at every little thing that might be a spider crawling on my leg.

Now Mr. The Size Of My Big Toe was an uninvited guest all the way. I’m not even sure where he came from (although I suspect he hitched in on the book shelves) but in going to and fro I happened to look down and see this humongous spider booking it across the floor. Did I scream? No. Did I run around in panic? No. Was I startled? Hell yes, the damn thing was bigger than a Loonie and scuttling like an Olympic sprinter across my hallway. So I did what every red blooded American would do when they see a spider the size of Cleveland (but with more electricity) racing through their house. I grabbed the nearest cat and plopped it down in the spider’s path.

Now THAT’s entertainment! I let the cats chase all manner of bugs (except ear wigs. I just outright kill those fuckers) and I have been known to point them out to the nearest feline on many occasion. It’s less effort and more fun to watch the kitties go at bug removal than it is to get a paper towel and squish said bug myself. Last night, Mr. Continental Divide arachnid put up a good fight but he was no match for Master Hunter “I”. The spider scuttled, Isaak blocked, the spider feinted, The “I” rebounded. They went left, they went right, there was great property destruction and then the spider careened under the gate out of kitty paw reach. Very unsporting.

So I decided to put Spider back into play and went over to shoo him out from under the gate. Except when I got to the gate the spider wasn’t under it, or on it (I gave the gate a really good shaking too), or by it, or under the kitchen island, or on the stairs or anywhere a spider could have possibly gotten in the time it took me to get over to it. The bastard pulled a Houdini. He was gone, daddy, gone.

I’m not sure which is more disturbing; the fact that I was disappointed that Isaak couldn’t get more spider fun time in and the Little Kitty just plain missed out on some spider chase action or that there is a big ass spider still somewhere in my house. He can’t have up and vanished and the nearest door is ten feet away so he didn’t escape to freedom. Logically he’s holed up somewhere in the house plotting his revenge. This can only mean that sometime in the next day or so, Mr. Vanishing Act spider will go flying across my path when I least expect it and startle the living beejeebus out of me.

Poetic Justice or Spider Karma?

This entry was posted on Monday, August 18th, 2003 at 2:34 pm and is filed under General Bloggery. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.