Wednesday, October 21, 2009


“The answer is all inside your head,” she said to me.
“The answer is easy if you take it logically.
I’d like to help you in your struggle to be free.
There must be fifty ways to kill a spider.”

Yeah, yeah I know. Paul Simon’s lyrics don’t say that.

My therapist did.

More or less.

That was many years ago when I was trying to get rid of Spiderphobia.

Yeah, I know. It’s really Arachnophobia.  

But I like Spiderphobia better.

And I’ve got Spiderphobia bad.

And this is the time of year (yet another reason to hate fall), that spiders love to come inside my home.

Lots of them.

Big ones.

Small ones.

Strange colored ones.

And what I hate about spiders is that want more than shelter when they come inside from the cold.

They want something from me.

In the dead of winter, I will wake up in the morning and have a bite—or more—on me.

There are no mosquitoes in winter.

But something was definitely crawling in the middle of the night. So it has to be a spider that bit me!


For heaven’s sake! What do these varmints want?

Now, in all fairness to spiders, and anyone who believes it’s wrong to kill a living thing, I do allow some spiders to co-exist with me.

And why you might ask do I allow these spiders to live?

Because these spiders are small, thin and wispy. They are not ugly like the big Wolf spiders. They know their place in my world. They stay in the corners of my kitchen and never leave.

But more important—they are my allies. They trap the centipedes in my apartment.

And the Wolf spiders!

Often, on a cold, dark winter morning, I’ll mosey downstairs to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, my mind contemplating which W.I.P. I’m going to work on when, I’ll turn the light on and . . .


A dark blob in the corner!


But HA HA!

It’s in the web of my friend, the “corner” spider—DEAD!

Being how many Wolf spiders and other ones I’ve already killed since the temps have dropped, I’ve decided to allow a few more “corner” spiders to take up residence this year.

One can never have enough allies.

Always, Em-Musing

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