An Arachnophobe Writes…

It’s tough, at 1.83cms tall, 88kgs in weight and male, being an Arachnophobe. My reactions are quick, sight twenty-twenty, I have good-sized hands making great scoops for spider repatriation back to the wild. Yet the very thought, makes me shudder physically.

I am a closet-Arachnophobe; which makes the situation twice as bad. I’ve told no one before. No one but you.

On removal missions, sent in by fellow cowards, I ensure the door is closed up behind me. So it’s just me and ‘it’.

I wear a fearful face as my brain works through all the options, based upon all the possible variables.

Have you got rid of it yet?!” I hear come through the walls, “I want a bath, make sure you clear the cobweb away too, I don’t want to sit in cobweb!

Pressure. Always pressure. Never a few hours to think, sit in the garden, sip tea, sketch out ideas onto paper. Never.

No. Action is required by out-Arachnophobes, quickly.

Don’t spiders look evil? A close up photo is not required to show the hairs and fangs and eyes, its all there evident, when you find yourself face-to-face.

The most recent strategy I deployed involved a one-metre length of toilet tissue, dangled into the bath. This giant, burger of a spider, having initially ran, worked out – I believe, an opportunity to escape existed.

It hung on with three of its legs, as I craned my arm over towards the window. To my misfortune, I’d miscalculated the ratio between the metric length of the toilet tissue and imperial-measure of the window frame height.

Whilst trying to lift the dangling spider upwards in an attempt to clear the windowsill, my hand collided with the top of the window frame. The collision was enough to cause those three long legs to let go and now be faced with the creature glowering with anger – I imagined, standing there in front of the open window, considering its next move.

There was only one course of action left available and in the situation, I needed to react quickly.  I blew hard, but it just jiggled around, caught in its own silk strands. I blew again, much harder this time and finally, the spider sailed out of the window to ride the air currents down to the ground.

Each encounter, has its own drama.

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