5 am, Tuesday

Let’s be clear: we are not running a no-kill shelter for spiders.  However, no one appears to have told the spiders that.  As I write this, there is another very large spider trapped beneath the planted pot in our lounge.  Maybe I jinxed us last night.  Maybe Harry and his friends have only just begun to make our house their snow bird destination for the winter.  And maybe our screams of fear laced with complete disgust woke the neighbors, but this is getting slightly out of hand.

Up for my morning jog, I was in the process of turning on every light in the house to scan the ceiling for unwelcome visitors when *&$#*, there went something scurrying across the lounge floor.  Now how is this fair?  Here we’ve been assured that these oversized spiders prefer to hang out above our heads and now there’s one running past my feet.

In the process of defending ourselves (i.e., placing the potted plant over the top of the spider), we did discover two potentially useful facts:  in the event of future floods or scuttling spiders, the dining chairs are plenty sturdy to stand upon and the coffee table will hold the weight of one rather tall and spindly Gina.

We have decided that for every spider we see in the house this winter, we are shaving one month off of how long we stay.  At this rate, we better start packing now.