I had to look at my recent pictures to have any idea what has happened over the last day or so. I'm just sprawled out between two fans, with the windows open and attic fan supposedly pulling in cool air from outside, with my brain melting out of my ears. Today wasn't even all that hot. I need to find out whether the medication changes my gastroenterologist made are affecting my ability to handle heat. If so, I need to prepare all my usual companions to expect not to see me until September. I'm going to hide in the coolest, darkest part of my house until autumn.
Wait. I should rethink that. Cool, dark corners have spiders, and while normally I'm not one to be afraid of spiders, they have been giving me reason to be wary lately. Two or three nights ago, I felt something crawling down my arm, after I'd gone to bed. I stood and tried to just brush it onto the floor. All I accomplished was to push it to my forearm, and when I lay back down, it bit me. Hard. I screamed and jumped up and turned on the light. The spider and I had words. I grabbed a random piece of paper and carried it onto the front porch. Then I spent the next hour googling what kinds of spiders are common in Colorado, and what they look like.
And that's how I learned there is such a thing as a brown widow. And that they exist at my house.
Luckily, the bite was mostly better by the next day. But when I was looking at my iPad last night, and a similar-sized spider silhouette danced across the screen, I yelped and freaked out a little more than I normally would. Was the brown widow back? Did she just like me that much? This time I got a picture of my nighttime visitor, and it was not the same spider. So, what, now I'm just lucky? Popular? My daughters theorize that I'm seeing so many because of all my plants. I suppose it's possible. Fungus gnats are a thing, and I imagine spiders would go where they are. Doesn't mean I like it, though.
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