I’m still feeling a little lazy, having just returned from warm, nay, freakin’ hot weather, to what could very well be the pacific northwest. Cool and a titch wet. Since I am feeling uninspired enough for original content, I will respond to your questions and observations with answers and rebuttals.
First of all, just in case anyone thinks I am over-reacting to the whole “share-the-pool-with-the-spider” thing, check out this link and come back. Go ahead, I’ll wait.
Regarding the eight-legged interloper, Colleen asks “At least it was dead?” Gird your loins, kids, it was alive and kicking. That’s how I could tell it could walk on water. And quickly, too.
On the same subject, Charity remarks “Okay, that’s just wrong.” Agreed.
I remember grabbing my flip-flop from the pool deck, yelling “Not in my pool, you witch!” (or something like that), whacking the offending arachnid onto the pool deck and smacking the livin’ bejeezus out of the stunned spider. Or, I may have been a little tentative with the smacking part. I imagined a spider carapace (do spiders even have carapaces? Or carapi?) so hard that, like a cockroach, a beating with with a rubber flipflop would bounce off, leaving me face to face with a fanged, enraged Shelob-like creature that would leave me wrapped in its silk (hey, I guess I could harvest it and knit something, except for the being stunned with venom and waiting to be eaten part) floating in the pool until next Monday when the pool guy comes. And, since the no-one needs to see me in my bathing suit, I couldn’t do that to the pool guy. I figured if a tentative little tap didn’t do in the spider, I could easily spend the rest of the week in the house and the spider could have the pool to itself if it was that important. As it turned out, the spider didn’t put up much of a fight. Can’t say I was too disappointed.
Ruth comments “What, no photos? What kind of a blogger are you? :)” Cut me some slack, Ruth. (plaintive whine here.) I was posting from my new Blackberry, and could barely see the keys, let alone figure out how to take a freakin’ picture, to say nothing of figuring out how to post one on the blog. I would not give the spider the satisfaction of being immortalized in picture as well as words, and there was really nothing else picture-worthy. (ooh, except Saturday’s outing for S&B, but I don’t know them well enough to start taking pictures.) I am, I repeat, a lazy blogger.
And, lastly, Colleen (the other one) claims that she didn’t know I had gone south again, which just reinforces my suspicion that it doesn’t matter how old one gets, one’s elder sister never listens when one tells her one is going back to Arizona.
There was a little fibre activity while I was away, so drop in again in the next day or two and I’ll tell you all about it. And I promise, no more spiders.
Read Full Post »