Come Into My Parlour…

Living in the country has it’s many charms and no shortage of wildlife that regards your home a shared space. From garden visitors to home invaders, there are quite a few new creatures I have had to grow accustomed to if not grow to love outright.

Spiders fall into this category.

We have an amicable enough relationship, in that we can peacefully coexist so long as neither party decides to invade the other’s physical space. We watch out for each other, I try not to hoover them up and leave active cobwebs alone (old abandoned ones are fair game) and they in turn do away with any pesky flies or flying bugs that may wander into the house. The man of the house is particularly fond of the spiders we host, and holds them in high regard. Initially I was suspicious that this was a clever way of excusing the lack of sweeping that was evident in the house when I arrived, but I have grown accustomed now to his many peculiarities (and I believe vice versa!), and I accept that the spiders are part and parcel of the house we live in (Lily, however will snap them up if they unwisely skitter within reach – she’s a ‘take no prisoners’ kinda gal).

And, because my guilty conscience will not let me be, I must admit that yesterday while scrubbing the bathroom floor I accidentally caused one of our wee arachnid friends to lose his leg – I was mortified as he hobbled frantically back to his spot, and I truly am sorry.

So here’s to you little friend, I hope you live long and prosper out there, behind the bin:


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