I have this 'thing' about spiders, which basically goes something like this... A spider enters the room, it is small enough that if it wanted to, it could probably balance on the head of a pin. In my mind it's shadow is spread along one entire wall and half way across the ceiling. From the second I have spotted it, nothing else exists in the world. My eyes helplessly follow it wherever it goes. I think something along the lines of "Ewwww....urghhh.....aarrrgghhhhh! Get all eight of those horrible legs away from my house, and stop looking at me!Stop moving like that, it's creeping me out. No, please! don't go that way (at this point I'm practically standing on the sofa)go away, go out the window..Leave this house at once. (wailing quietly, so as not too attract it's attention in case it hasn't noticed me yet) Not there. No! Not in my bedroom dammit!" I'll now be sleeping on the sofa in wellington boots,(they're not creeping and crawling over MY feet!) armed with the hoover for secure containment of evil spider interlopers, (although if I catch one I'll have to put the hoover in the kitchen, close the door and put a towel against the bottom of it, while I spend the night worrying that it has broken out of the hoover bag and is coming for revenge) and my washing up gloves. I used to have a shower cap to protect my hair, but it was taken away from me when I ran screaming round the house having found a spider lurking in it. This outfit is the housewife equivalent of dressing to deal with a serious biohazard. The very idea of touching a spider leaves me on the verge of vomiting. No, that's wrong. The idea of me touching a spider is ridiculous. I wouldn't even consider it. I actually can't even imagine it. What I mean is the idea of a spider touching me, or even touching my clothes if I'm wearing them. I don't want them walking on me. That unfortunately, is all too easy to imagine. It's embarrassing, but true. I've been told that spiders don't even notice people, but I've seen them scurry around corners to hide and then cautiously creep out just a little check if the coast is clear. I've seen them pause to check the situation out when a noise disturbs them. They know what they are doing. So, in light of this fact, which merely skims the surface of the way I feel about spiders (I am itching at the thought of them) I should have known that watching the film "Eight Legged Freaks" last night was a mistake. I did try my best to watch it WITHOUT seeing the spiders, but that was a lost cause from the start. Once I'd started watching it, I had to watch it until the end. If I don't see the good guys defeat the evil spiders, I'll have nightmares for weeks. At the time of writing, I have my feet tucked underneath me on my computer chair, wellingtons stood ready beside it with a paper tissue on top of each one so no spiders can sneak up the side of the boot and hop in while I'm not looking. My washing up gloves are on top of my printer. I have removed my dressing gown from the back of the chair, in order to leave no easy cloth routes up to where I'm hiding. The hoover is plugged in ready to go, just to my right. My hair is plaited and pinned up (I once got a tiny bat caught in my hair, that was weird enough) I'm not giving a spider a chance to hop on my hair, so I've minimized the available surface area. From time to time, I start and I shudder, convinced I can feel something on my toes, my back, my neck, the chair. I tell myself the chances of it being a 'you know' are slim, but even a stray hair falling onto the back of my neck as my hair tries to come undone (caused by my frantic patting of my head when I thought there was something on it) is enough to make me jump. My family have now officially banned me from watching horror films with spiders in, or comedy films with spiders in for that matter. Even my son turned around this morning (finding me perched on my chair) and announced "Mum, there's some things you just can't do." So, now you know the thing I just can't do :-) How about you? Shanna :-) Not even allowed to watch Spiderman :-(

I like spiders. They are the first line defense against other bugs. Cockroaches, now. Ick. Can't touch them. Leave them to the cats. They like spiders too. For snacks. :(

Sympathy can be bleached out.(There is no spam like an old spam) I cannot deliver a handbill for a sale on Saturday to all the houses in the county in the two days left after the printers delivery service is unwilling to undertake the task. The snowstorm blowing up into a blizzard on Thursday night as the task is presented makes hand delivery extremely risky and improbable. With the business owners son I set out to estimate the level of failure. I had walked the streets in blizzards before. Three foot drifts only slow things down and twenty below makes an Operation Deep Freeze mask and motorcycle boots mandatory. That was for only about 1/3 of the area of the town we live in. this was now for all the other little towns in the county up to fifteen or twenty miles away. The owners son was able to get his mothers 1955 Buick to handle the trips to the small towns but most of the work was walking to the doors to put the flimsy paper in where it would not get blown away or lost in the ever falling snow. We set off for the first town on the lake to the East and the snow there was even deeper and more enveloping as it fell. We had no address list to just mail the ads and the two cent cost of the stamp alone would have far exceeded the one half cent we were being paid. They would not have been delivered in time with only two days even if the addressing task could be completed instantly. The heater of the Buick was welcome as we returned to pick up another stack of paper and set out on another street. Finally near midnight that one town was done. Not wishing to be caught opening and closing doors after midnight we went home. Even the idea of going up to homes after nine oclock was daunting and we tried to pick houses where heavy boots on the porch and the slamming of the screen or storm door would go unnoticed. It was good it wasnt a city. The owner of the store was adamant. The bills must be delivered or the sale would be a bust. The next day we began right after school in blowing snow. First we had to go to the little town where the sister store to the owners was and get it prepared. It was only five miles to the North so that went quickly and we began in earnest in our own town. There were still four more big towns in the county and all the farms and crossroads. The roads and streets had been plowed here and the huge snow banks made getting from the road a major fight. Once over the snow banks we dropped into about three feet of loose powder. Slogging through that to the houses was an experience I was familiar with. We were tired as we rolled up to the post office. Our minds were dust as we tried to think of where to go next where a block of houses would allow us to get rid of another stack of handbills. Finally we gave up and took a handful each and stuffed them into a snow bank in front of the post office to be discovered blowing up the street in the spring as dirty snow melted for the last time. The box still held a lot of paper in the trunk. Once again night had closed off our access to the doors. Tomorrow was the sale. We went to show the owner what was wasted. He wasnt pleased but relented. He paid us for the work we had done. He had to estimate how many bills were left as the only count was on the total. He was a very conservative man. We had compensated a bit with the bills in the snow bank.

At thirteen years of age I walked the Bright Angel Trail at the Grand Canyon. A beautiful wooded vista and nice views of the canyon in the distance. Once we arrived at the canyons edge, however, the beauty became overwhelming. I wanted more than anything in the world to ride that little grey donkey down to the bottom of the canyon. What a great excursion right? As I peered over the edge of the canyon and into that mile plus drop, vertigo took over, then hysterical giggles and clutching at my mothers coat. There was no way I was going to be able to sit on a donkey and ride a narrow path with that sheer drop on one side and straight-up cliff on the other. I tried to get calmed down enough to make the trip, but each time I peered over the edge and saw the Colorado River at the bottom my mind did some sort of reverse telescope trip and made it look even deeper; perhaps even an eternal drop to the bottom. So, while I can say that the Grand Canyon is a wondrous and beautiful sight, I cannot speak from experience on the true magnitude of the thing. Only a distorted vision of an everlasting fall to the bottom. So, this would not be a good time to tell Shoshanna about my daughter's pets the spiders? Nor about the lady in whose hairline an eggsac was laid? Things that go buzz and sting... now those send me into screaming fits of heebie-geebies!

Um, I'm not sitting next to your daughter if you bring her to the picnic Charmz, that's for sure! Coakroaches, delivering vast quantities of handbills in the snow and heights....not exactly on my list of favourite things to do either. Shanna :-) Who still wants to watch Spiderman but needs to go and check her hairline in the mirror, after all, you never know WHERE spiders get to when you're asleep :-0

There have been some nasty little horror stories written about earwigs, but one would never go to sleep if one believed everything one read. I had a bee caught in my ear once, which managed to get trapped by my hair. It was very intersting. The odd thing is that the creature didn't sting me but managed to work its way out and flew off without incident. Had it been a cockroach, however, the story would have had a different ending.

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Thank you for the link dialyn, you were right about the entries :-) Shanna (and there wasn't a spider in sight)

I don't really fear cockroaches, but I sure hate them. Down South we get the 'wood roach', jet black, up to 2" in length, and inch across, and almost an inch thick. Living in bad apartments, I've been killing these #$%^'s for nigh on 20 years. My only regret is having something with enough mass to do the job with one blow..you don't get a chance for a second one..:|

A body man's rubber hammer is best unless you can find a rolled up fiber hammer used by an aerospace worker on aluminum. They work excellent on mice also which feel they are really bugging out until the bang hits them.

Cross off another geographic location where I will never live. 2" cockroaches would do me in. I cannot imagine spending a night squashing them. Big ick.

I'm a biologist, I don't mind most bugs that much. Spiders, I like 'em. Snow, it's hard to come by in warm Venezuela, so I don't trouble myself much over it. Wasps and bees, now THEY make me nervous. Perhaps it is because I've never been stung by one before. I don't go into a hysterical fit, but I certainly fidget a lot. I can never concentrate on anything if there's one of them stinging beasts around; I keep my eye locked on it, trying to guess its trajectory and doing my best not to be in the middle of it. I hate it when they come visit me at the lunch table in our patio. I always think that they're out to get me. Besides, I've got a dirty conscience: I did some work with these types of insect once... they must have my name on a list. ] They enjoy making me suffer too. They know I will not dare to hit them for fear of retaliation. So they buzz around contentedly, until I am forced to flee the scene. Quietly, of course, and with dignity; I would never let my enemies see my fear. But they know, and I know it.