Thieves In The Night

In cat rescue, I never know what I’ll encounter on any given day.

I might get a call about kittens stuck inside the sub-flooring of a basement and find myself crawling over rodent skeletons to reach 3 kittens huddled in the farthest corner (naturally) after mom was hit by a car.

Basement kitties

I might have to traipse through poison oak, even though I’m horribly allergic, because it’s the only way to reach an injured feral. And once in a while I have to steal feral cats from a property where I brought them for rodent control.

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A Glass Half Full (Or All’s Well That Ends Well)

I’m one who tends to believe in omens, signs of what’s to come. Granted, many omens tend to be perceived as hints of bad stuff awaiting, at least for those who see the glass half empty. For the glass half full kind of people, their interpretation may come from a more positive perspective.

I’m generally a glass half full kind of gal. If something bad happens, I don’t automatically jump to the conclusion my day or the entire week is shot to hell. But when New Year’s Day began, it had me questioning the fullness of my glass.

That morning I rushed around before meeting friends for Pam’s birthday hike, followed by lunch. Then little things started happening. Now don’t get me wrong; I have a nice life with little to complain about. But since I’ll jump at any opportunity to have blog material, today you’re reading about my questionable start to the new year.

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Pot Gummies Rock

After years of being an insomniac, I’ve discovered something rather disturbing and it’s this: Not sleeping sucks. This comes from someone who, given the chance, would enjoy 9-10 hours of blissful slumber a night until my late 40s.

Something changed when menopause hit. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not alone here. Few ladies I know around my age who aren’t on a low dose of hormones sleep throughout the night. I’m envious. I’ve asked my doctor about this and I get the same response my sleepless friends receive…

Keep a sleep routine; don’t use your computer late at night; get a sleep app; take Melatonin; no caffeine at night; take a hot bath…yada, yada. Well let me tell ya, none of that worked. And since Alzheimer’s is on both sides of my family, my doctor advised against taking sleeping pills and using hormone therapy.

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A Christmas Tradition

I guess you could say my Christmas spirit was missing in action this year. Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like me to forgo decorating with enough holiday decor that borders on being embarrassing. However, I was swamped with work so finding time (and the gumption) to drag everything from the shed was rather daunting. So I skipped it, other than placing a wreath on the front door, giving the illusion I’m festive.bah-humbugNormally I invite my 10 besties over for a tree decorating party in early December. We eat, drink and are consequently quite merry. Karen hangs the lights because she does it best. The gals hang most of the ornaments, yelling at me to “Come help us!” That’s because I’m usually busy gabbing. Dinner is just a ruse to lure them over. I’m like Tom Sawyer, only instead of painting my fence, they decorate my tree. But this year I gave them a reprieve. Continue reading

Rethinking Spiders

spider again

I’ve never been afraid of spiders.

In fact, I don’t use pesticides to eradicate what many consider pesky creatures — the crawly things that visit my home. I have pets so I try to avoid poisons, nor do I want to kill any creepy looking critters. I’m weird like that.

Consequently, my neighbors’ crawly things prefer to come to me where it’s safe but apparently not so sound. That’s because I often find my little friends taking refuge inside my house…in the bathroom Jacuzzi, the corner of the living room, or especially in the garage. In the insect world, word is out where I live. And word travels fast.

I keep Kleenex handy for scooping up delicate insects to place outside. Paper towels are too rough; I might inadvertently squish a critter and have to contend with the guilt. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not fanatic about spiders. But hey, they can’t help it if they’re disgusting looking. Besides, who am I to judge? I’m no prize either.

Kleenex

At the ready

Anyway, for indoor critter recovery I also keep a plastic container handy. Like when a lizard finds its way into the house, or God help me, one of my cats brings in a snake, which has happened twice (that I know of). Sometimes I’ll even scoop up a spider in my hands to gently place on a rosebush near the porch. I imagine it appreciates the gesture so much more than encountering the sole of my shoe.

rosebush

But then last week, as I talked on the phone with a friend, I had a visit by the largest spider I’ve witnessed in my home in the 33 years I’ve lived here. It practically rendered me speechless, something I’m rarely capable of being. I stopped mid-sentence, basically to freak out.

Quickly hanging up the phone, I took a photo of Mr. Gargantuan, AKA Mr. G. I wanted to remove him ASAP. Or sooner. I admit this photo doesn’t do him justice without a frame of reference to display his size, like putting a half dollar next to it. But I’m not crazy. No way was I getting my hand near that monster. Let’s just say it was take-your-breath-away-big.

big spider

Leg to leg, larger than a silver dollar

So I raced to the pantry for my insect-catching Tupperware. My heart pounded as I wondered how I’d capture this spider without it crawling up my arm and biting me on the face. Don’t laugh. It actually happened to a singer, Meghan Linsey. While she slept, a brown recluse spider bit her on the face, gradually creating a hole under her eye.

megan linsey3

As luck would have it, my spider was also brown. I thought, do brown recluse’s live around here? (They don’t.) But how was I to know? Could have been a cousin to Meghan’s spider, out here visiting. Anyway, as I tried scooping up Mr. G, he literally propelled from the kitchen wall onto the floor in one magnificent leap, just like Spider-Man. Then, before I could nab him, he quickly scurried under the door into the garage.

spider man leaps 2

Trying to fall asleep that night wasn’t easy. I imagined every little itch was that same brown spider. Then, to top it off, guess what I found the next day on the exact same wall? A baby spider! I swear to God. But now I’m thinking Mr. G was actually Mrs. G and this little one was her offspring desperately searching for her. That’s all I need — a hole in my face from an angry baby spider out for revenge because I scared mom away.

baby spider

So to recap, I am now afraid of spiders.

brown recluse spider 2

An actual brown recluse. Sorta looks like Mrs. G, don’t ya think?

Previously posted in 2017