You would not know it if you were to look at our house, but we are in the midst of a long seige war. It is us, the mammals, against the insect hordes. The cats do their bit, catching the moths and flies that come inside (since we don't really have screens for our windows). E is in charge of the Relocation of all Eight-legged Interlopers. I am in charge of pointing out infestations and making a ruckus until it is cleared away. We are all very good at our jobs.
Over the past few weeks we have all settled into a pretty acceptable cease-fire. There haven't been as many months and bugs flying around inside, and the spiders have mostly confined themselves to the garden areas. I wasn't too happy about them weaving their webs of death in my flower pots, but since they didn't jump at me when I watered, I was happy to let them be.
Today however, they went too far. I opened the front door and there was a HUGE spider (okay, about 1-inch diameter, with legs) that had woven a web that covered the entire front door. Now, I work with yarn and fiber. I can appreciate good weaving when I see it. But this guy had gone too far. It was impossible to walk out of the house without being trapped in his web.
So, I did what any sensible, intelligent, rational person would do. I screamed, slammed the door and got E. As the Minister of the Relocation of all Eight-legged Interlopers, I saw it was fully within his duties to move said trespasser off the doorway. Which, thankfully, he did. I was sure to tell Mr. Spider in no uncertain terms that the doorway was not an acceptable homesteading location and he should chose more wisely next time. I'm sure if any of the neighbors were listening they think I'm crazy.
[Editor's note: Yes, I know that spiders are our friends and that if they weren't here the planet would be overrun with bugs. That's why I no longer get out the broom when I see them, but let E relocate them outside the house.]
