This art has nothing to do with this post.

I have news that may shock some of you. In light of the almost constant threat of spiders, my crippling phobia has lifted somewhat.

Long ago I once reached for a lightswitch. As my finger flooded the black room with light, my eyes fell upon a spider, crouched in terror, about 6 inches from my hand. I ended up the floor, eyes rolling, making a noise like a stricken rabbit.

Present day, I recall this fear somewhat like I recall the joy at Christmas that Santa was coming. I remember that I once felt an intense emotion, but I can't really feel it the same way ever again.

I've taken to naming the ones that aren't really horrific. The ones I essentially can't be arsed to get up from bed or bathroom to kill. A side effect of this is that I have begun to feel a sort of sympathy for them. I imagine I'm pretty damned scary myself, especially naked in the bathroom at 4 am. Don't get me wrong. Huge brown spiders and black widows will always send me running for the broom. I speak of the medium spiders.

Frederique was one of these spiders. I saw him periodically over several days, then finally decided that killing him would be like driving 4000 miles and shooting a good friend. Frederique got a trip outside in the Eli-Plastic-Cup Express.

Jones was a spider recently I had shared the bathroom with. He left me alone and stayed in the corners. Then one night I worried he wasn't finding enough to eat.

I have hit a new milesone I wish to share with you.

I caught Jones in a cup myself and took him outside.

If you aren't impressed by this you don't know me well enough. You might also be a stranger who has wandered across my blog. Hello stranger!

I think I saw a little guy on the window as I was falling asleep last night. I'll keep you posted on Lexington.