All Gods Children Day One And A Half
Without Prejudice
Day one wasn't finished with me quite yet. I was feeling great, jobs done and one more, just one more to do. ( I never learn) I swept up some rubbish near the waste paper bin and felt something snag on my broken fingernail. I thought it was a piece of string and went to flick it off.
It wasn't a piece of string......
It was a big juicy Huntsman spider and Yvette said she heard my scream from the house. I flicked it on to the floor and it lay there outstretched and seemed to be waving at me. I grabbed the can of fly spray and sprayed it until it's legs and body turned white. It didn't die, so I grabbed the can and beat it to death. There's more than one way to skin a cat or kill a spider and if any insect lovers out there want to chastise me they can.
The only good spider is a dead spider to me.
When I was little and lived in Port Augusta our Dad believed in not killing spiders. He said they ate the flies. So my big Sis, Jackie and I would lie in our beds with sheets pulled up to our chins and stare at the spiders in the corners of the ceiling and pray for them to not move. Eventually sleep would overtake our fright and as soon as we opened our eyes on waking we would search them out.
Dad even named them. Oscar and Hamish. But the naming did nothing to allay our fears and one day they just took pity on us and disappeared into the garden somewhere.
I had one in my pyjama pants once. And they bite. I never knew that fact and wasn't prepared for it.
I had my 14 year old Grand Son living with me at the time. He was going to Dandy High at the time and getting there was a lot easier from my house rather than his Mothers. I only mention that fact as it becomes important later.
I had gathered the washing in off the line and dumped it in the bottom of my wardrobe without folding it. Something I usually never do, but I did that time. I forgot the warning one of my friends had given, about that washing should always be taken off the line before 4.30pm.
So later before bed, I grabbed a pair of pyjama bottoms out of the clean washing at the bottom of the wardrobe and hurriedly put them on and leaped into bed. I was tired, it had been a big day and Grandson was fast asleep in the guest room. I hoped to be too as I had another big day on the agenda the next day.
Suddenly I felt a tickle on my leg, mid thigh. I willed it to go away. The tickle came again and at the same time as I instinctively just knew it was a Huntsman, I grabbed at it through the material and scrunched it. Hard. And it bit me on the thigh. Also hard. I screamed blue murder and ran to the guest bedroom, and pummelled on the door screaming my Grandsons name.
I stripped my pants to my ankles and the spider fell on to the floor where my grandson hit it with a shoe. I was hopping up and down with anxiety and saw quite a red bite on my leg. My Grand son swept the spider up and plopped it out the front door.
" It bit me " I said, pointing at the bite repeatedly.
" I don't think they're poisonous Nana" He replied.
I agreed and stuck some metho on it and wandered back to bed. I couldn't believe I had grabbed it, I could still feel it's body under my fingers. It squished. I decided to read for a while And for at least an hour I felt like every strand of hair that brushed my face was another spider,
sleep was a long time coming.
Day one wasn't finished with me quite yet. I was feeling great, jobs done and one more, just one more to do. ( I never learn) I swept up some rubbish near the waste paper bin and felt something snag on my broken fingernail. I thought it was a piece of string and went to flick it off.
It wasn't a piece of string......
It was a big juicy Huntsman spider and Yvette said she heard my scream from the house. I flicked it on to the floor and it lay there outstretched and seemed to be waving at me. I grabbed the can of fly spray and sprayed it until it's legs and body turned white. It didn't die, so I grabbed the can and beat it to death. There's more than one way to skin a cat or kill a spider and if any insect lovers out there want to chastise me they can.
The only good spider is a dead spider to me.
When I was little and lived in Port Augusta our Dad believed in not killing spiders. He said they ate the flies. So my big Sis, Jackie and I would lie in our beds with sheets pulled up to our chins and stare at the spiders in the corners of the ceiling and pray for them to not move. Eventually sleep would overtake our fright and as soon as we opened our eyes on waking we would search them out.
Dad even named them. Oscar and Hamish. But the naming did nothing to allay our fears and one day they just took pity on us and disappeared into the garden somewhere.
I had one in my pyjama pants once. And they bite. I never knew that fact and wasn't prepared for it.
I had my 14 year old Grand Son living with me at the time. He was going to Dandy High at the time and getting there was a lot easier from my house rather than his Mothers. I only mention that fact as it becomes important later.
I had gathered the washing in off the line and dumped it in the bottom of my wardrobe without folding it. Something I usually never do, but I did that time. I forgot the warning one of my friends had given, about that washing should always be taken off the line before 4.30pm.
So later before bed, I grabbed a pair of pyjama bottoms out of the clean washing at the bottom of the wardrobe and hurriedly put them on and leaped into bed. I was tired, it had been a big day and Grandson was fast asleep in the guest room. I hoped to be too as I had another big day on the agenda the next day.
Suddenly I felt a tickle on my leg, mid thigh. I willed it to go away. The tickle came again and at the same time as I instinctively just knew it was a Huntsman, I grabbed at it through the material and scrunched it. Hard. And it bit me on the thigh. Also hard. I screamed blue murder and ran to the guest bedroom, and pummelled on the door screaming my Grandsons name.
I stripped my pants to my ankles and the spider fell on to the floor where my grandson hit it with a shoe. I was hopping up and down with anxiety and saw quite a red bite on my leg. My Grand son swept the spider up and plopped it out the front door.
" It bit me " I said, pointing at the bite repeatedly.
" I don't think they're poisonous Nana" He replied.
I agreed and stuck some metho on it and wandered back to bed. I couldn't believe I had grabbed it, I could still feel it's body under my fingers. It squished. I decided to read for a while And for at least an hour I felt like every strand of hair that brushed my face was another spider,
sleep was a long time coming.
