I was going to proudly tell you about the impending arrival of Mrs Golden Orb’s babies. She went to the maternity ward last Saturday (the other end of the verandah) and laid an enormous egg sac. Once it was safely anchored with some golden thread, she retreated to her web to recover. Mr Golden Orb has kept a tiny, proud eye on her. (When I say ‘tiny’ I actually mean ‘minuscule’.) Anyway, this morning, while I was still non compos mentis, the Old Boy killed the babies. That’s right; I’m going to call it as it is. I’m not prettying it up. He killed them because he didn’t want them taking up residence around our home. He’s a terrorist of the arachnid world.
I was quite happy to wait and watch. I wanted to see the end result. I wanted to see the Golden Orb offspring make their way in the world and thus the cycle be complete. I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. After all, they may well have flown away on the gentle Autumn breezes to other gardens, other bushes and other verandahs. I’ve come to know Mrs Orb quite well since she’s taken up residence outside our back door and I feel we’ve let her down. The Old Boy says she doesn’t feel any attachment to them and she’ll get over it but I say, “How do you know what a spider feels?”
I keep thinking, “What would Charlotte say?”
I shall recover from this shocking event but it may take a while. “Too sensitive,” you say? Well, forgive me for caring but that’s just the way I roll. The Old Boy and the Wonder Dog couldn’t care less.
Made me laugh and brought back memories.
When I lived in the country, we had a toilet down the yard, as we had four children this came in handy, when there was a child hopping up and down saying Oh come on out I need to go, the response was ” go down the yard”
As I was cleaning, I noticed a Huntman had taken up residence there, he wasn’t doing any harm he was disabled, one of his legs was missing and, I thought, he’ll keep the mozzies at bay, I named him Fred and carefully cleaned around him each day. My youngest child refused to go in there ‘cos he was frightened of Fred. But Fred the mozzie eater.lived there happily for some time.
Tragedy struck when my mother visited for the weekend, the indoor loo being occupied she strolled down to the outdoor facilities, when she returned to the house, she casually commented, as she washed her hands at the kitchen sink she sad, “Irene, I just killed the biggest spider I have ever seen in your outside toilet, it was enormous”, my mother always averred that the only good spider was a dead one. I knew he owed his large size to his diet of mozzies, and was grateful for the service he provided, I, like you, was the only family member who mourned his passing!!
I guess we’ll hear about this tomorrow. Sorry Wendy but I’d have to kill them too! but I wouldn’t be the murderer, I’d spray them and the spray would do the dirty deed.
We’re kindred spirits, Irene. I’m glad I made you smile and brought you happy memories…as well as the sadness of a poor huntsman gone to its heavenly reward.
I don’t know why my response to Irene ended up under your comment, Pamela, but I’m sure you won’t mind. The Old Boy knows how annoyed I am so I’m not expecting him to share the news. Then again…
I’m with you, Wendy. Poor Mrs Orb. She placed her babies where she thought they’d be safe and they were not. 🙁
Exactly! Oh the horror!