For my new readers - a classic tale of woman vs. spider. Duty calls and I will be away for a bit, but not before a bite to eat with Tam and long time friend PA State Cop near the airport so I can get on the road. But there will be some saved posts of meals and adventures past to come up til I return. - Brigid
On a hunting trip with the boys, Og brought over these round green balls that appeared to be some kind of pod or alien fruit. "What the heck are those?". I asked. Apparently they were the fruit off of the Osage Orange tree, otherwise known as Hedge Apples. He's found a bunch on Frank James Farm where we are invited to hunt. He said they repel spiders. You put them in a bowl or on a piece of foil and place them around the house. They won't spoil or mold and eventually just shrink to the side of a walnut. I should have brought more of them home.
For I am afraid of spiders.
Snakes, bats in my hair (been there, done that), no problem. When you're out in the wild, sometimes hunting, sometimes working, you run into it all, bears, wolves, coyotes, horny toads, horny tourists, bugs, ants that bite and those little plastic containered, cellophane-covered sandwiches they carbon date for freshness and sell at gas stations.
I lived in the desert after grad school, and woke once to find a tarantula in my bed. My roommate, raised there, heard my shout and got a dust pan and gently picked it up, talking to it softly, and took it back to the yard to be released. "They do more good than harm" she said. I slept on the couch for the next month.
Moving to the country years ago, spiders were a constant, short of running them over with your giant Chevy Subdivision, they were pretty hard to kill. One night I opened the door to let the dog in and in rushes a grasshopper, into the house as fast as he could go. What the. . ?? He was being chased, by a large spider. I got the door closed before a spidey security breach, got the grasshopper picked up in a jar, and put him out the back door. Next time I opened the front door, the spider was waiting, rushing at the door again. . . "I Am Sparta! SLAM. We used the back door for a couple of weeks.
I can handle a lot of things, be it heights or hippies. But not spiders.
So there I was, safe at home, up at 3:30 in the morning to use the bathroom (note to self no Guinness after 8 pm) and as I'm taking care of business, a wolf spider about the size of a Buick runs across the floor towards me. Barefoot, bare everything, I threw a hand towel on it and proceeded with my rendition of the Grapes of Wrath stomp.
Stomp Stomp Stomp. Die Spider Die!
No movement from under the towel. He didn't escape, the floor around it was clear. I left it there for the morning.
At 5 am, I got up (wearing slippers just in case) and look at the towel, prepared to just shake it outside and then throw it in the wash. But what caught my eye was the large dead spider, legs curled up, a few inches away. He'd managed to crawl out and expire next to the tub, rolled up like a crescent roll. OK. At least he was dead. I went to get a paper towel to dispose of the remains.
This is where the fun started
I came back and Mr. Spider was completely reanimated, and pissed off, on TOP of the towel, ready to pounce on my foot like a Chihuahua on a pork chop.
He'd been dead. I'd been sure of it. I'm kind of trained in those things. Now he's back.
I had the only zombie spider in all of Indiana.
Fortunately, I was highly trained in zombie spider removal and wearing nothing but tactical bunny slippers, beat him to death with a roll of paper towels.
Zombie Spider Rule # 2
The Double Tap