It’s not so much the spiders, although I’m not a fan, it’s the sticky webs that get me. I don’t care if I brush up against one and it only attaches to my shirt and not my skin, I’ll still do a dance where I’ll look like I’m being electrocuted.
The other day I walked out from my front door to the car and as I got under the tree I saw that my nose was an inch away from making contact with an enormous brown spider, and that my right shoulder had dislodged the anchor strand which extended to the grass underneath. I backed away slowly, distancing myself from the horror of a sticky web, and did the dance to get it off my shirt.
The next day I wisely walked around the tree. However, I had underestimated the anchor strand, and grossly underestimated his tireless nocturnal endeavors, because the web extended beyond the tree and grass underneath it over the walkway thirty feet away! I walked snoot first into a sticky strand, and because it was SO unexpected, I did the dance in double time. By now I’m wondering what the neighbors think.
The next day I left for work in a hurry and shot out the front door at full speed. I remembered the web situation in time, and stopped short. I had a bag of used kitty litter in my hand which was destined for the trash can way over in the spider-free zone, so I started swinging it wildly all around. In front of me, above me, spastically. I hoped that the bag would hold and I wouldn’t have ended up spraying kitty litter everywhere. But the web situation was at a higher Def-Con level, so I proceeded with the crazy bag swinging until I got to the car.
The next morning I was prepared. I brought the BROOM out with me. As I walked to the car, swinging the broom in great arcs and sweeps above me and around me like a pinwheel, I looked either like a crazy woman losing her mind, or a taut Warrior Princess swinging my sabre. I rather like to think it was the latter.