It was 3:00 a.m. and I was in our cavernous bathroom, tired, not feeling well, and not up for much. I looked over and there, on the stark, cold white tiled floor was a shockingly enormous creature. I was so startled by its size I nearly let out a spontaneous "Bow wow! Arf! Mooooo!." It was a frighteningly large thing. But no, it wasn't a dog. It was a very large spider. My sixth in 4 weeks. Go ahead. Shudder at that thought!
I had come close to stepping on my first only a few days before, as I was doing laundry. That night I cringed as I boldly slammed it, several times, with a broom pan. (It was spry and was not easily defeated.) Truthfully, I do not enjoy killing anything at all, so we were going to have to get the spiders outside. To that end, I decided to leave the carnage for Larry, hoping he would be shocked into doing something about our obvious problem. But there the skeleton lay, crinkled up, for nearly a week.
Not long after, I caught sight of another eight-legger boldly inching its way out from our bedroom and down the hall. Then, another night, very late and while all alone in the kitchen, I had to practically wrestle a fourth spider over to the sink, where I applied hot water torture techniques. (Very traumatic for both of us.) Once again, I saved the carcass for Larry, right there in the drain! But the spiders kept infiltrating. A fifth beast was found relaxing in William's shower and still another caught looming in my closet. Obviously, we are not safe. And clearly, Larry is not a spider slayer.
Then, last week, William came shouting excitedly into the office, just electrified! What appeared to be a one-pound toad, about the size of my had spread out (photo below does not do justice to its size, but note the quarter to the left of the toad) ,was plunked down on our car port. We prodded it and photographed it from every angle to no end. Finally, our toad hopped heavily off into the wild. That is the end of the real story. (But . . . in the movie in my head . . . we become stranded and although we nearly starve to death, we are saved by our hefty toad, big enough to feed a family of three, who keeps us from the horrors of cannibalism.)
Yesterday, as we drove home along our local mountain highway, Larry nearly had to break for a large Iquana that darted across our path! A big, green Iguana.
So far, we are surviving the wildlife. Fingers crossed! But... what's next?
Bottoms Up! Grief on the Fast Track - If you moved at a steady clip through all five stages of grief, getting to the other side of the loss would probably take a fair amount of time. In my hom...