Spiders: They're Pretty Much Everywhere

Does anyone else do "Spider Checks?"

You know... you wake up and stumble into the kitchen. Of course, the coffee maker reservoir is empty, so you grab the water pitcher, go to the sink, and start filling it.  Suddenly, you sense there is a spider nearby! You quickly glance up to the light above the sink, the corners of the cabinets, and the ceiling.  Whew.  No spider this time.  

Yesterday I went out to get the mail, forgetting that my husband had freaked out a couple of days earlier when he saw a giant spider in a web by the mailbox.  I reached for the mailbox beside the front door just as I spotted the spider.  I retracted my hand as I squeaked out, "Eeee-eeee-eee-yah!"  I bravely got the mail anyway, postponing a decision about what to do about that large, light orange spider.

I've got a whole litany of spider stories.

That morning, age 24, when I stumbled into the bathroom in the morning to take a shower and spotted a HUGE spider chilling in the tub.  I hustled back into my bedroom, grabbed my "Spiders of the Northeast" book, and went back into the bathroom to identify the beast: Wolf Spider, scary-looking but harmless. I probably used my "cup and piece of paper" spider-capturing method to put it outside.  What can I say, I'm the daughter of a zoologist.  We grew up identifying birds and spiders, rescuing turtles in the road and baby birds on the ground, and hatching tadpoles in the kitchen.


That time, I must have been a second or third year teacher, when the kids started freaking out in homeroom because one of them spotted a spider in the corner of the classroom.  "Guys, guys," I said, all macho, "it's just a spider.  Here.  Watch the master at work.  Watch my cup and piece of paper spider capturing method."  I grabbed my coffee mug and a piece of looseleaf paper.  I crept up on the spider and... boom!  Put the coffee cup over it.  I caaaaaarefully slipped the looseleaf under the cup, creating a foolproof little cage. I was so involved in my operation that I didn't notice that 10 or 12 of the sixth graders had clustered around me to watch.  As I stood up, the looseleaf gave way and the spider tumbled out.  I screamed. All the kids screamed.  (Because I screamed, not because of the spider.) I tried to laugh it off, but my spider street cred was lost.  Fortunately, since it was homeroom, another adult was there to witness the scene. If I remember, it was the science teacher, and he wasn't impressed with my knowledge of how to handle the natural world.

All the spiders that my husband has made me capture or kill, because he's afraid of spiders.  I'll be watching TV with the kids in the living room and I'll hear a little man-scream from the kitchen.  "Spider!" he'll squeak.  I'll sigh loudly, roll my eyes, and go into the kitchen to smush a tiny little spider that poses no danger to anyone.  Not like it's a jumping spider that's gonna get you as it leaps a foot from side to side.

That story my mom told me about Tiffany Moore, our neighbor.  When Tiffany was about 7, Mrs. Moore saw her stomping around in the sand box.  "Honey, what are you doing?" she called from the back door.
"I'm stomping on all the little back spiders with little red dots on them!"
Black widows- poisonous.  Fortunately, Tiffany made it out and we met up for dinner when I was in Portland visiting friends at age 27 or so.