It was a typical evening. Or so I thought.
working all day doing household chores blogging most of the day away, it was finally time for bed. So I went through the usual routine:
1) Turn off the laptop.
2) Turn off the lights in all three aquariums.
3) Turn off the outside lights and lock the front door.
4) Kiss hubby goodnight as he stared at the TV movie that, as usual, he'll never stay awake through to the end.
5) Wash up, brush teeth, change into PJs.
6) Climb into my comfy waterbed with a satisfied *Ahhhhh!* and head off into a blissful sleep, perchance to dream of Johnny Depp.
7) Bolt upright and swear at the high-pitched whining, informing me yet again I forgot to let the dog out.
8) Stumble in the dark to retrieve my slippers, weave down the hall, wince at the bright lights of the kitchen and then the garage as Casey scampers outside in the dark.
But this is where the routine stops. At least on this night. For as I wait for the canine to return, I get a silly notion to check if any plants on the deck need watering.
And before I head out the back door, I stop dead in my tracks.
For there, hanging at face level just inches from my nose, is The Arachnid.
GAH!!!! One more step, and I would have had smacked right into the damn thing.
So, being the Incredibly Brave Blogger that I am (you can just refer to me as IBB), I hastily backpedaled and ran inside to grab my camera. When I returned he was still there, dropping slowly on a single shimmery thread. So I take a few shots. Okay, a tad more than a few.
Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash!!!!
I must have been blinding all eight of his eyes, for soon it had enough and began to swing back and forth until it landed on the Virginia Creeper growing up the wall on the right side of the door. Before he could find refuge behind a leaf from the paparazzi accosting him, I finally got a good shot:
Ewww... at least he was gone in the morning, leaving no Indiana-Jones type cobweb I'd have to machete my way through.
And at least I didn't have dreams of creepy spiders crawling into my mouth that night. At least, not that I can remember.
But crap, I didn't dream of Johnny either. At least, not that I can remember either.
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