When I jumped in my jeep this morning to head to town I looked down to discover an enterprising spider had decided the centre console was the ideal place to set up its new digs.
The days are long gone when the sight would have sent my heart rate roaring into overdrive but I’m still not a fan.
Still, as I wiped the gossamer silk away I uttered an apology to the unseen builder.
I have no idea where this fear came about or why. For years, if I even came across a picture of a spider a cold chill would go down my spine. So you can imagine my reaction to coming across one in my space.
Snakes, mice, other bugs - all cool. But let one of those eight-legged creatures come anywhere near me and rational thought soars out the window.
And it doesn’t even make any sense. My daughter had a smake when she was in school who was a bit of an escape artist. Once when he went missing for two or three days we had almost given up hope of finding him until I went to do the weekly laundry. Luckily for the snake, my daughter was terrible for going through her pockets so I’d gotten in the habit of going through her laundry.
And there he was snuggled up in the middle of the pile. My reaction was to lecture him on the dangers of going through the wash cycle but other than a sense of relief that he was okay, I felt nothing.
Now, if it had been a spider…
I remember one time when I was living in northern Manitoba. I had a part-time job cleaning the medical clinic/emergency room building in the small town we lived in. One spring day I decided it was time to take all the curtains down and wash them.
Everything went according to plan until I reached the doctor’s office. As I reached up to start unhooking them my eyes zoomed in on a massive (to me) spider tucked in one of the curtain folds right at eye level.
I screamed and jumped, before racing out of the office. Thankfully, the floors were at the end of the wax cycle or I probably would have crashed headfirst into a cart full of medical supplies sitting in the hall. (Wouldn’t that be fun to explain come Monday?)
I hung out in other parts of the building for a while, trying desperately to psyche myself up to go back into the office.
But it simply wasn’t happening.
I eventually broke down and called the clinic receptionist who also happened to be my best friend. Anyone who was going to rescue me was bound to laugh so I figured it should be someone I could snarl back at without fear of creating a situation.
Credit where credit is due, she gave it a herculean effort but in the end was almost crying as I recounted the story.
These days I am more likely to tell a potential threat to go the other way and we can both see tomorrow. Still, even a hint of those eight little legs starting to scuttle in my direction and all bets are off.