Last night I was sitting in my comfy cozy rocking chair – yes, I know how pathetic that sounds – and watching Survivor – again, pathetic, I know – when along came this little spider, tooting and minding its own business. I watched, somewhat fascinated (okay, it was far more interesting than watching that stupid show) and noted with interest how the little thing hugged the wall. Closer it came, and still I did not move. I’d dropped a piece of paper on the floor next to my chair and the spider suddenly veered off course and headed directly for it. I kept thinking, it’ll go back to the wall soon, but nope, it seemed determined to scope out that object that had no business being there. I reached down, moved the paper and shooed the creature away. It ran back to the baseboard and huddled – poor thing- and waited for my attention to once again become riveted by the tv set. Alas, as soon as it had, I spied the spider heading straight for the piece of paper again. Okay, for those who know me, you can just hear my laughter. And I couldn’t stop because that spider came back three times to check out that paper!
Goofy thing.
Good thing the kids weren’t home.
They’d have made me squish it.
down the mountain road 
Reminds me of the itsy bitsy spider
I hadn’t thought of that! Too funny…
I would have made you squish it too. Don’t even get me started on the “Palmetto Bugs”. 🙂
Ah, come on – what’s one little spider in a house full of them? At least these are all tiny – the ones we had at our camp? Brrrrrrr – they still make my skin crawl. Barn spiders living right inside! Their bodies were the size of a quarter…. Now, does that beat out a “Palmetto Bug” (whatever that is?)
A good spider is a dead spider to me. A palmetto bug is a big, nasty Southern cockroach. They just gave it a fancy name. They are big, but not as big as the Hawaiian ones, thank goodness! Ewwwwwww
I don’t like any of them.
Well, then, aren’t you glad you’re moving away from those big, icky things? And who said there wouldn’t be a silver lining? As to spiders, I agree – but then we have a zillion bugs those creepy things eat, so who am I to argue with their menu selection?
I try to remind myself of the other icky things the bugs eat, but that just creeps me out too. 🙂
Why Denise, I had no idea you were such a girly-girl! (they creep me out too)
A girly-girl with a tough side when needed. 🙂
That’s right! I forgot that you are an Amazon!!!
I’m not too afraid of spiders but my one daughter is.. she would have had a mini-nervous breakdown indeed!!
It’s too funny that mine freak out – the ones we have now are all wispy and sweet. Alas, this one was small and dark and they wouldn’t have appreciated it.
I would have cried…until someone else came to smash the varment
They were the most awful things – and they showed up in places like… above my daughters’ headboard, on the backside of the toilet paper at 2:00 am. There is a reason we no longer own that camp…
what a poor spider and what a funny business.
The danged thing was just so CURIOUS! How could I not laugh???
I don’t know you but I can hear you laughing. And your voice, through your words, sounds very Irish: “comfy cozy- tooting and minding- the little thing hugged- and still I did not move- but nope- determined to scope- no business being there- and shooed the creature away- alas, as soon as it had- I spied the spider- goofy thing- they’d have made me squish it.” What a perfect little collection of words; an Irish ode, just tooting along, in song. Indeed.
You think so? Guess I’ve been a working a bit too much on my mighty Irish epic then, as I’ve not one jolt of the Irish in me. No, although my gram was “Blair” I cannot make a claim for even for the Scottish. I am a Frenchwoman.
I wonder if the French like spiders?
That’s an incredible revelation – French. Astounding. You wield the language with the brush of an artist, many an Irish writer or poet surely would discover a vein of envy tearing at his soul. Rather enjoyable. I will return to your page to examine the canvasses more thoroughly, Susan. There is a masterpiece among them, no doubt.I’ve already read several; you rushing out the shower torecord the words dancing in your head. Quite amusing, that. I’ll be back.
oops – you see, here is where I straighten out the mess I’ve made from my previous explanation. I’m in the midst of genealogy – tracing my family tree and such – so…. when I say I’m French – that means I’m of French descent. My father’s family is from French-speaking Canada (and further back, France). Soo….. still impressed?
I thought not.
French-spaeking Canada! That will do just fine. I noted your link to Irish Gran…I will be reading it soon. Cheers
that’s great… except, now it turns out she wasn’t Irish, but French. Are you confused yet?
You’re killing me Susan. I will return for a thorough read, I have to study a lot the last while – dead tired – I’ve just lain myself to rest, hoping my body will finally collapse and give my faculties the rest they need to regenerate. I’ll add you now so I don’t get lost entirely. You need a need passport, and I need spectacles.