By Alison August 14, 2007 6 Comments 2 Min Read


I did quite the strangest thing the other day. I was wondering around the house, chatting to my Dad on the phone and trying not to kill myself on the elaborately designed Power Ranger boobie traps Finley constructs, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted a spider as big as my hand clearly about to make herself comfy on my powder pink velvet cushion.

Now on any other day this would have brought on the screaming abdabs, a safe perch on top of the dining room table and maybe an emergency call to the fire service (it’s any excuse these days!). But, (and heres the thing), plainly my  innate fear of things with hairy legs had  took a holiday on this particular day, because without further ado, still engrossed in my Dad’s theories on all things HTML, I leaned over, picked the spider up with my BARE hands and carried the little blighter into the garden, took the opportunity to dead-head the magenta rose bush while I was there and then went inside  to pour myself  a glass  of blueberry juice.

Three hours later in a case of delayed shock, I keeled over  in total horror. Oh. My. God. I carried a (watermelon) spider! I touched a spider! I risked having the yukky, hairy little thing run down my blouse and make itself at home in my knickers!!  Plainly I momentarily lost my marbles and who knows where this kind of  bravodo could lead. I’ll be leaving a slice of ginger cake out for the mice next, buying myself a snake and holding flea races on my Egyptian  cotton sheets. I’ll be the talk of the neighbourhood. Little kids will gather outside my house to catch a glimpse of the Spider Lady and I will give up washing my hair so I  don’t disturb the nits.

Mind over matter Miss May. Mind over hairy, crawly matter.



  1. Clare says:

    Oo-er, incredibly brave!! I can't bear them – even the tiniest ones have me moving away at lighning speed!

  2. You give me such good giggles!! In our old farmhouse, we have a running (no pun..)problem with mice! Hubby often puts the trap in the oven (they love my old pink oven – perhaps because it's not self-cleaning & I've given up believing that they don't really go in there). I can't tell you how many times I've nearly cooked a mouse. Now, all of you bloggers who wouldn't dream of having insect or rodent control issues, you may not use this as evidence against me in any way. Smiles… Polly

  3. Amy says:

    oooh you're alot gamer than I am, I can't stand spiders!

  4. Monique says:

    I'm so very proud of you !!! That spider was very lucky. Most people get a newspaper and I don't have to tell you what the result of that is. Now he/she can have a ball in your garden !!!

  5. Nonnie says:

    Oh how brave. They give me the creeps although I am a little braver than I used to be. I can now kill them myself! Oh isn't that terrible of me. I know I shouldn't but I just can't bare them. Knowing they're in the house is too much. They just have to go and I couldn't contemplate picking one up. I'm not surprised you had delayed shock.

  6. Melody says:

    wow. That was very kind of you to release the spider. It gives me chills down my back just thinking about it. lol. The fate of all spiders in my house (be they big or little) is squashing with a shoe. Not the one I am wearing mind you, but one I get from the shoe closet so I can smash and run, in case I miss. 😉

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