I spent last night fragrantly surrounded by lemon peel. Well, something had to be done about it. The night before, Mr Mac and I had been peacefully reading in bed when large spider scuttled across the bed clothes.
Shriek! I flicked it off with David Nicholl’s One Day (not enjoying it much, but it came right in handy at that point) and smashed it with a slipper. Of course I felt terrible afterwards.
I sought a green solution. Allegedly spiders hate the smell of lemons, hence the peel. Some of my friends have already poured scorn on this notion, miserable know-alls.
Arachnophobia is a dreadful affliction. I googled arachnophobia courses to see if I could learn to love the eight-legged hideous creatures and found I should have felt SORRY for the spider on the bed. Apparently it was a lonely male, who had BRAVELY ventured forth to seek a mate. My heart bleeds for it! ‘He doesn’t live long’ said the blurb. Too right! Thump! Gotcha!
The blurb went on about how we don’t like the way they scuttle. CORRECT! And then said we don’t like the way they always seem to be heading right for us. RIGHT! But apparently they’re not, they’re just frightened of something like the telly or a bright light. NO, THEY’RE NOT! They’re scuttling right for us to go up our trouser leg! Scientists, schmientists.
The blurb grudgingly agreed that from our days as primitive cave men we might be justified in fearing things that scuttle about in the dark, then said for £110 we could be cured of it by doing their arachnopobe’s course. But my piggy bank is rather too empty , except for a dead spider rattling around in the bottom of it, to head down to London Zoo to be cured.
I remember the spiders where Mr Mac and I used to live near Glasgow. Once one got into the in-tray in Mr Mac’s office. He heard it first, rootling about in his papers, lifting them up, then it appeared. The size of a dinner plate ! So we’re supposed to happily indulge MONSTERS whose nose is bothering them riffling about our in-trays, are we? Thump! Gotcha!
If you do the right thing with the glass and the bit of paper and put them outside, THEY COME BACK IN within a few days. You would too if someone put you out of your house! That’s my point. They should NOT be in MY house.
Spider’s revenge- I wonder if the lemon peel caused a bad dream I had about my father going gaga.
I told Mr Mac: “I dreamed Dad had gone gaga and was saying bizarre things.”
He said: “No change there then.”