Spiders who hold grudges…

BigB knocked the spider out of its web with the broom.  It landed on the side of the house.  He tried to  kill it, but it was too quick for him.  As it scurried away across the bricks it suddenly stopped, turned all of its beady little eyes on me, and said, “I hold you responsible!”, pointing at me for emphasis with one hairy leg.  He had an accent.  Maybe it was Sicilian, maybe it was Russian, possibly Transylvanian.  I may not be good at accents, but I know pissed when I see it.

What did I do?  I didn’t knock it out of its web on an otherwise peaceful Sunday.  I didn’t grow to be an abnormally large spider in a region where smallish spiders reign.  And God knows, I didn’t choose the corner of our portico to build my web mansion.   I didn’t do anything, in fact, except be born with a phobia of spiders, leading BigB to jump to my defense when I walked out of my house a couple weeks ago and spotted a huge one lounging nonchalantly in a menacing way in the middle of its web, attached on three sides to my property.  What was I supposed to do, invite it in for tea?  I’m not the brightest bulb, but I’m not as stupid as the fly from the storybook, either.  I did what any self-respecting, upright phobic Chicken would do.  I backed away slowly and yelled to BigB that there was a monstrous possibly rabid spider trespassing on our property.

And now a vengeful homeless spider is stalking me.

Every time I leave the house I check the corner where it first appeared.  Then I check the side of the house, the ground around the entry way, all of the other corners of the portico, and then if it’s clear, I’ll exit.  If it is dark out, I’ll wear something on my head and wave my hands in front of my face.  I don’t care how fearless you are, no one wants to run into a spider web in the dark.  In the car,  I check the floor and the back seats.  I can just imagine it sneaking up on my shoulder as I maneuver into the high speed lane, whispering, “Guess who?”.  Our bedroom window is open at night to take advantage of the cool fall breeze.  Sure it’s screened, but I just know it’s going to find a way in and crawl under my covers in the darkest hour of the night.  I’ll wake up wrapped like a fly while an army of spiders sucks me dry.  Or will it get me in the shower?  LIke that bat that time?  Maybe it’ll drop suddenly in front of my face from the kitchen ceiling as I cut vegetables with a large kitchen knife, causing me to stab myself to death.  That would probably make it feel pretty good.

I haven’t slept in two weeks.  I know what all you spider lovers are saying.  “Spiders are good, they keep down the insect population, blah di blah di blah.  Well, so does fly paper, which might be gross, but doesn’t crawl into your ear while you are sleeping.  And you southerners,  I can hear you….”Well, in Texas we got spiders big as your face.” Yes, you do, which is one of the reasons I don’t live in Texas, or Louisiana or Oklahoma or Florida.  You think I don’t like sultry weather and the scent of begonias and jasmine?  I do.  It’s spiders I hate.  So I live here in the mostly inclement northeast where big spiders AREN’T SUPPOSED TO LIVE.  Now I have to deal with snow, ice AND aggressively large spiders?  It hardly seems fair.

I blame climate change.  And BigB.  The next time a spider needs killing around here, I’ll be ready with my chainsaw.


I was going to put a picture of a spider here but I couldn’t bring myself to search f or spider images.  So here’s a cute kitten.  Pretend it’s a vicious spider.

  19 comments for “Spiders who hold grudges…

  1. Doug in Oakland
    October 1, 2014 at 8:08 pm

    When my brother was a toddler back in Oklahoma, he was playing in the yard one day and bent over to reach for something on the ground while saying “Fuzzy!” My mother snatched him up before he got to the tarantula…
    Nice new digs you got here, but I kind of miss the picture.


    • October 2, 2014 at 5:04 pm

      Hi Doug, yikes. That is a good name for a tarantula, though. Thanks. I miss the picture, too. I just have to figure out where to put it. And how. The how is always a big one for me.


  2. October 1, 2014 at 8:33 pm

    I like the substitute spider photo. Bet it spins a cute web too. This is my first attempt to comment at WordPress –hope I’m doing it right.


  3. October 1, 2014 at 9:39 pm

    BAHAHAHA!!! It’s tarantula season here. Yes, we have a season. For the month of September you can see cars weaving all over the streets. It’s hard for the police to tell who’s drunk and who’s just trying to miss hitting a tarantula.


    • Jo H.
      October 1, 2014 at 9:45 pm

      There are people who want to miss hitting a tarantula??


      • October 2, 2014 at 5:01 pm

        OMG that’s what I said!!!! Why? Not only are they just scary in general, but now they are jaywalking and causing traffic accidents.


    • October 2, 2014 at 10:28 am

      Hi Jayne, that sounds like a scene out of my worst nightmare.


  4. October 1, 2014 at 11:18 pm

    I share your phobia. It’s not a phobia. It’s a natural response. Every human should have it, they are nasty, brutal little beasts.
    I once walked into a spiderweb in the jungle, I wore glasses then. The web, along with a spider, stuck to one of the lens. I tore them off and stomped on them, breaking my glasses. Blind in the jungle.
    Another time in the same period one fell from the sandbag top of my bunker, landing on my mosquito netting, just above my face. A big one. I got my .45 pistol from my side, shot it. This caused a base alert and a scalding reprimand.
    They are evil.

    Liked by 1 person

    • October 2, 2014 at 4:57 pm

      HOLY CRAP! How did you survive? I would have died. Seriously. Yikes. I’m going to have bad dreams tonight, I just know it. And obviously, I am never going to the jungle.


  5. jenny_o
    October 2, 2014 at 3:01 am

    Very funny post, lady! I used to really get creeped out by spiders also. There were some huge crazy looking ones at our cottage a few years back; they had markings on their backs that reminded me of a swastika. I set out to kill them all that summer. Fast forward to a year ago when I did some research on the interwebs and determined that all the spiders in our region are polite, law-abiding, hard-working members of society with strong parental instincts and a healthy dislike for winter. Now I’m just waiting for karma to get me.

    You can delete my other comments, Chicken, as they are only confusing at this point! I left a reply to Jayne’s comment under the name Jo H. and then a regular comment also as Jo H. Hopefully this one will work better!


    • October 2, 2014 at 4:50 pm

      Hi Jenny, oh no-generations of spiders to come will have a wanted poster with your name on it. You know, I can’t seem to change my mind about them, I just can’t. They give me the heebie jeebies. Maybe if I had a thorn in my foot and a spider came along an pulled it out, maybe then, but most likely, I’d step on it as soon as I could walk again. It’s a facet of my psyche I struggle with. I am sure there is a way to set up the comment section where I don’t have to approve the comments, but I have not found it yet. I’m a slow learner.


  6. October 2, 2014 at 5:15 am

    I’m high-fiving you, low-fiving you, and side-fiving you here. Although I’m okay with spiders, I’m rabidly afeared of all rodents. Plus, we can talk bats. I called 911 on a bat once.


    • October 2, 2014 at 4:46 pm

      Yup, you, me and little Miss Muffet, right? I would have called 911 on that bat, too, except BigB intervened and saved me once again.


  7. October 2, 2014 at 12:05 pm

    Oh, nicely done, Chicken. Or is it nicely-done Chicken? Because your ass, as we used to say, is grass. Spiders, like elephants, never forget. Luckily, they have no where near the lifespan. I say you keep your eyes peeled — and offer sacrificial insects — for, oh, another month. Then WHAM! The cold kills it.

    Bwa ha ha ha!!

    From the tiny-spidered State of Minnesota, where Mother Nature is Thinking of Killing You for the Next Seven Months,



    • October 2, 2014 at 4:43 pm

      See Pearl? This is why I love Minnesota. It doesn’t tolerate spider bullshit. My husband happened to mention last night that he was on the highway in our truck and a spider dropped from the roof of the cab, landing in his left eye. It wasn’t Godzilla, though. Probably one of his kamikazes looking for me.


  8. October 2, 2014 at 4:59 pm

    So this is New Jenny? Sorta like New Christine/Old Christine??


  9. thesmittenimage
    October 2, 2014 at 10:18 pm

    Look up wolf spider, if you dare. And then imagine sitting on a dock and discovering that’s where they like to sneak up on you. I’m commiserate 100%.


    • October 3, 2014 at 9:03 pm

      Oh, I have seen them before. Documentaries love wolf spiders. And once you’ve seen it, you just can’t unsee it. I will probably never sit on a dock again. Nope.


Your turn...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

B.I. Redux

One chicken. So many roads.

Mind the Wanderings

One chicken. So many roads.

Hamlets & Hyperspace

Sci Fi & Fantasy Book Reviews

The Phil Factor

Where Sarcasm Gets Drunk and Lets Its Hair Down

Miss Judy Writes

a writer, reader, gardener and foodie

Freethinkers Anonymous

It's another story.


Come for the laughs, stay for the lunacy

Patrick Tillett

One chicken. So many roads.

jenny's lark

the beauty of an ordinary life

Momentum of Joy

Spirituality, Reality, & Everything In Between

Object Relations

"A Word of Substance"


A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Wishbone Soup Cures Everything

One chicken. So many roads.

The Way I Sew It

One chicken. So many roads.

Cup on the Bus

One chicken. So many roads.

idioglossia: the blog

Be open, be free, a space for anything unsaid and unsayable.

Think Stew

One chicken. So many roads.

Procrastinating Donkey

One chicken. So many roads.


“Everyone who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that some spirit is manifest in the laws of the universe, one that is vastly superior to that of man.” - Albert Einstein

Trainride Of The Enigmas

One chicken. So many roads.

Genial Misanthrope

One chicken. So many roads.

The AC is On

One chicken. So many roads.

%d bloggers like this: