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Posts Tagged ‘spider’

This morning, I dozed back to a restless sleep after my kids left for school. Semi-insomniac that I am, I had a couple of bad nights this week; paired with my lingering health problems, I have been needing more sleep than usual. Some day, I hope to return to productivity and my old “morning person” persona. When did I get this way?

As I slumbered (ha ha, don’t you just love that?), I had a dream with spiders. Huge spiders whose bodies mimicked the fruit of the sweetgum tree, aka, monkey balls (I don’t think that as children we thought they referred to a monkey’s testicles even though every kid knew what balls were).

There was a musician playing a guitar. Another man, too, but I don’t remember who. And Paul was there, I think to save me from the spiders. The spiders were key. There were many, sort of hanging around off the wall and they were huge and some of the spiders had babies. I thought the spiders should not be squashed and that if they were, they would make a bloody mess; bloody both in the British sense of the word as well as the bodily fluid.

I know why the spiders looked like they did in my dream. Yesterday, I had an appointment with my acupuncturist. There are 4 treatment rooms in her clinic and I was in the Herb Room. One wall is made of built-in shelves and on the shelves are glass jars comprising a Chinese pharmacopoeia. One of the jars has something that looks like the monkey balls of which I speak. I am guessing they are the very same, but since I don’t know the Linnaean name nor can I make sense of the Chinese words, I have no way of knowing. I suppose I can check next time I’m in the Herb Room, but I will have forgotten by then.

I think this photo is so lovely. It makes me think warm and happy feelings, like spring. Can you think a feeling or are thoughts and feelings distinct? Certainly, humans have the unique ability to summon feelings. Feelings, as well as thoughts, are simply neuro-chemical impulses after all.

Some time late in my college years, I made a beautiful mobile out of natural objects. A crab claw, a feather, perhaps some sweetgum fruits strung on thread. I can’t really remember. These things perish because they are not rocks or bones or sand. Maybe feathers, like hair, last a long time. Crab claws, they break. We see so many of them on the beach, their shells, too; they are thin and brittle. Maybe they become sand.

The long and short of it is that when I did get out of bed, there was a small, jet-black spider on the wall. It’s not the usual spider we get in the house, but I’ve seen them before. I meant to go back and grab it up into a tissue and put it outside. But I forgot. It dipped down pretty cold today, a freezing wind and no sun so it would have died. I try not to kill them in the house. This creates a dilemma in the winter. Sometimes I do suck them up when I am vacuuming.

Is it better to be squashed to death if you are a spider or to be put outside to freeze? Sometimes, I need my space to be free from spiders, but more often in the winter, I just leave them alone. In warmer weather there is no dilemma.

Are your dreams ever prescient or do you not cotton to that kind of phenomenon? No matter; I believe in the inexplicable and it’s often good enough for me. Science has its charms but I don’t think it can measure everything.

How many spiders live in winter? how many billions of neurons are in your brain? how many stars are in the universe?

Estimated guesses, my doves. You can leave the rest to the poets and dreamers.

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“…in Sweden, it is illegal to train a seal to balance a ball on its nose…” (Wikipedia, Pinniped)

I  think I took this photo last October and never shared it with you.

If you look at it too much, it will probably give you the creeps. But I am a fan of spiders and have taught myself not to be completely terrified of them like when I was a child (and teenager and college student). I save most of them when possible and I taught my kids to do so as well. We are almost pathological about it.

It was all so long ago, when my friend taught me kill a spider, kill a thousand Buddhas. That was all it took.

The photo quality is horrible so you won’t be able to click and get a close up. It’s from my old camera—water spot, &c. (Even my new camera does not have great resolution when you use the close-up feature on my blog. Next stop? SLR. I know SLR sounds kinky, and maybe it could be, but it just stands for single lens reflex).

I am aware that that might be a bunch of baby spiders or some sort of eggs on its backside. I remember looking as closely as I could at it at the time and thinking, no, this is just the shape of its hiney.*

*aka abdomen or opisthosoma, which sounds Greek (and you know they are kinky).

Do you wish you had an anal tubercle or are you happy with your body the way it is?

I can tell you that I do appreciate spinnerets. What a cool feature.

He may not remember it, but the same friend who taught be about spiders and Buddhas said he wished he had the same type of nostrils as a pinniped so he could close them (or, you might say seal them off, ha ha!) at will; when necessary; in water.

I was not a good mom today. Send me good

Long, long ago, early on in my blogging, I thought a regular feature might be to re-tell some of the stories from our local newspaper’s police blotter. But it didn’t last because mostly there is domestic violence between moms and kids or siblings and siblings or boyfriends and girlfriends or people arguing over money or texting fights and drunk driving and drunken violence with thrown objects and homeless people and urinating and bike/car collisions. And you don’t want to hear about those things, do you? I know you have your own problems.

However, last week’s blotter brought this lovely tidbit:

SUNDAY, SEPT. 23

ANIMAL COMPLAINTS

• 10:26 a.m. — A loose dog wearing a pink scarf was found on Columbia Drive.

There is so much to recommend that news item. It’s so heartening. I feel almost redeemed. And what do you think they mean by loose? Because when I was in high school, that had a particular meaning, if you catch my drift. Wearing pink? It all starts to make sense.

I could not find a good photo of a good dog with a pink scarf when I searched google images, but wouldn’t you know, I found a cat?

Fluffy

Wait, I found one! Who’s a good dog?

 Max (or Maxine)

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