Well, I have the history that says a medium caliber firearm is sometimes the first thing that comes to mind when dealing with spiders, but everyone seems to be universal in their disapproval of that plan.

I don't disapprove of that plan! But then, my plan used to be hairspray and a lighter. Now my plan is Shriek Like a Crazy Woman, Then Wait for Pete to Get Rid of It. Less chance of setting the house on fire.

If I'm making a sign is it arana peligroso or peligrosa? I know there's a thingy over the n.

hairspray and a lighter

ooh! That might be more effective than a sign. She is right underneath a breaker panel though. hmmm.

I'm tempted to continue to make up scary facts about spiders, but something tells me I'd better not....

I'm tempted to continue to make up scary facts about spiders, but something tells me I'd better not....

No, you shouldn't. I need to sleep tonight, as I have an informational, "let's meet for coffee and chat" interview with another team tomorrow. So I need to be charming and coherent, not sleep-deprived and gibbering about spiders.

OK, one more scary fact about spiders.

Spiders will tell you they'll look out for your interests, but then they'll still vote for corporate tax cuts.

One spider saved a pig.

When you have an undiagnosed wierdness, watching House is not the best idea. Am now paranoid.

It seems to be the general consensus that I have an undiagnosed weirdness. The only clue I have so far is that it seems to be hereditary, if my brothers are anything to go by.

As evidence, this is the reply I got from my youngest brother on inviting him to dinner:

Billytea: Let's have Brendan over for dinner.
Wallybee: We can't invite him over, he's weird.
Billytea: Have you looked at me lately?
Wallybee: No!
Billytea: Look at me now, behold the weirdness!
Wallybee: No, no no! Don't make me!
Billytea: Look upon the visage of the one true William!!
Wallybee: I'm blinded! Help, help!

I just assumed Connie was dealing with some very large spiders, possibly armed themselves.

I wish . . .

No, many years ago, when the arachniphobia was less controlled, Hubby came into the kitchen because of the language I was using and the odd clicking noise he heard. He found me backed against a wall trying to chamber a round into a pistol. (Our handguns are kept unloaded in locked cases either up on high shelves or under the bed. We have no kids and no one but us knows where they're stored.) Fortunately, I was having problems getting the round chambered.

I had turned around and seen a spider less than two feet from my face. In my defense, the thing was half an inch across in body, fuzzy and had bright blue eyes that looked at me. And blinked.

Not the dreaded blue-eyed blinking spider! The .38 is their only weakness!