Arachnid Fecundity

It’s summer in Melbourne and today is glorious. On the advice of Miriam over at Out an’ About I decide to break from Christmas cleaning scrubbing and relax with lunch and a bit of a read outside in the sunshine. The outdoor umbrella hasn’t been unfurled since autumn. It appears to be all neat and clean except that when I wind it out a pod of spider eggs drops into the garden below and mother Huntsman glares at me. I’m reasonably brave with spiders and I don’t run screaming but they do get my utmost respect especially Huntsmen as their bite, though not deadly, can lead to an unpleasant hospital visit.

A nice sandwich and a glass of ginger beer in the garden with the sound of birds chirping what could be better? I tell you what could be better, not having Mother Spider glaring down at me while I try to read Under the Dome. It felt like I was under the dome of her glare. Short of shouting “the kids are in the garden” and being likened to the bloke on Family Feud last night who admitted to having a nightly chat and a cold beer with his goat, I gave up, downed my lunch and went back to the housework.

But dear readers the story doesn’t end there. I took the broom to the front porch and there under a dried up old oak leaf is another Mother Spider, same breed but a nice tan colour, guarding her clutch of spider kids.

It’s time we just packed the van and headed for the bush there’s just too much wildlife here in the ‘burbs.

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Being watched by a hairy spider is not my idea of relaxing.
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