Deadly Little Lady
or
"HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"
or
"HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"
I stepped into death's parlor for tea today. Luckily, I didn't stay for dinner. Phew.
Otherwise, this blog wouldn't exist any more. Whatever would my gentle readers do to waste time after they had finished with the news?
At any rate, I survived. The poisonous spiders, that is. I feel like a J. R. R. Tolkein character even saying that, but it's absolutely true. Tonight, at my domicile, I encountered two black widows. One of them was absurdly large. The other was somewhat more like what one might find in a zoo or entomological collection - that is to say, of average size.
I have photographic evidence.
Bella Morte of the back porch
Becca and I decided that she should take her cigarette in the front yard, instead. We'd had enough deadly arachnids for one night. Greg performed the role of chaperon. I'm glad he did. It was his sharp eyes that caught the second Black Widow.
They seem to like hanging upside down in their webs, don't they?
This new spider was about a third of the size of the original find. She much more resembled the black widows I've seen before in captivity. Certainly still deadly.
By some stroke of adrenalin-induced madness, we decided to capture it in a plastic container. Don't ask me how, but Greg did the honors in one fell swoop. No feinting, no whimpering, just POP goes the Tupperwear around our little horror and it was done.
Macro shot through the plastic. Look at those forelegs!
And now what to do with her?
That is the question, isn't it?
Becca wants to take her home. Fine. I told her she can have the damned thing, just don't let it go within a mile radius of me.
Ugh. Greg said her web felt like cloth gauze, it was so strong. It gives me shivers to even think about it. Especially since I imagine these won't be the last black widows we find around this place . . .
Otherwise, this blog wouldn't exist any more. Whatever would my gentle readers do to waste time after they had finished with the news?
At any rate, I survived. The poisonous spiders, that is. I feel like a J. R. R. Tolkein character even saying that, but it's absolutely true. Tonight, at my domicile, I encountered two black widows. One of them was absurdly large. The other was somewhat more like what one might find in a zoo or entomological collection - that is to say, of average size.
I have photographic evidence.
Bella Morte of the back porchI found the first specimen on our back patio while accompanying my friend, Becca, outside while she smoked a cigarette. Thank goodness I had turned on the patio light, because I almost stepped into the little lady's web, while barefoot no less.
Little. BAH! She had to be at least 2.5 inches in diameter. Never in my life have I ever seen or heard of a black widow so large. I spied her twitching amid her chaotic, glistening strands, surrounded by the corpses of her prey:
The Lady at home.
Those are full-sized cockroaches suspended below the spider. Ya know. For scale.
Little. BAH! She had to be at least 2.5 inches in diameter. Never in my life have I ever seen or heard of a black widow so large. I spied her twitching amid her chaotic, glistening strands, surrounded by the corpses of her prey:
The Lady at home.
Those are full-sized cockroaches suspended below the spider. Ya know. For scale.I had to kill her. I had no choice. The apartment is riddled with cracks and seams that lead to the outdoors. What if the little lady bred? We'd be overrun within days. I mean, I might survive if I were bitten, but what about my cats?
What am I saying . . . I didn't kill her. I'm too chickenshit for spiders, thank you very much. I did what comes naturally to every woman: I sent the menfolk after her.
First, Greg went outside with the camera to capture the spider's good side. He took probably 8 or 9 shots at close proximity, trying to get the perfect view of her hourglass. Then we sent out Arturo to get her with the Raid. I'm pleased to note that "Ant and Roach Formula" is equally effective on spiders, at least when it comes to a direct hit.
Everyone celebrated the death of Bella Morte - particularly myself, who had come so close to walking straight into fang-range.
What am I saying . . . I didn't kill her. I'm too chickenshit for spiders, thank you very much. I did what comes naturally to every woman: I sent the menfolk after her.
First, Greg went outside with the camera to capture the spider's good side. He took probably 8 or 9 shots at close proximity, trying to get the perfect view of her hourglass. Then we sent out Arturo to get her with the Raid. I'm pleased to note that "Ant and Roach Formula" is equally effective on spiders, at least when it comes to a direct hit.
Everyone celebrated the death of Bella Morte - particularly myself, who had come so close to walking straight into fang-range.
Becca and I decided that she should take her cigarette in the front yard, instead. We'd had enough deadly arachnids for one night. Greg performed the role of chaperon. I'm glad he did. It was his sharp eyes that caught the second Black Widow.
They seem to like hanging upside down in their webs, don't they?
This new spider was about a third of the size of the original find. She much more resembled the black widows I've seen before in captivity. Certainly still deadly.
By some stroke of adrenalin-induced madness, we decided to capture it in a plastic container. Don't ask me how, but Greg did the honors in one fell swoop. No feinting, no whimpering, just POP goes the Tupperwear around our little horror and it was done.
Macro shot through the plastic. Look at those forelegs!
And now what to do with her?
That is the question, isn't it?
Becca wants to take her home. Fine. I told her she can have the damned thing, just don't let it go within a mile radius of me.
Ugh. Greg said her web felt like cloth gauze, it was so strong. It gives me shivers to even think about it. Especially since I imagine these won't be the last black widows we find around this place . . .
2 comments:
Shellac it and sell it on etsy. That's pretty much my answer to all things I don't know what to do with.
Shortly after moving to NC, Alex and I were sitting on our (screened in) porch, which is supposed to be moderately bug proof, when I turned around to see a spider almost as large as a tarantula. It's legs were smaller, but only a little. And it jumped. Never have I seen such grandiosity in a spider! We couldn't hit it with a shoe because it jumped away behind the recycling bin, so we acted like good Texans. I retrieved Alex's (BB) gun, and he shot it. But the point is, it was big enough to easily shoot. Fortunately, the dastardly arachnid exploded all over the pavement, and we haven't seen any spiders (quite) that large since. But almost.
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