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I was working outside while Evelyn and Claire played on their little plastic jungle gym when I noticed Evelyn had stopped and was leaning out with a concerned expression on her face.

“What’s wrong honey?” I inquired.


“Sfider,” she answered.  (Yes, sfider.  “Sp” is still elusive to her.)


I don’t know if I’m more aware of them because I’m home all day or perhaps there really is an influx of arachnids this year but I’m almost getting used to them.  I’m not saying I wouldn’t shriek if one crawled up my leg or scurried through my hair.  Occasionally I do ask Jack to “take care” of a particularly large, menacing spiders but only if they’re indoors.  As long as the eight-legged creature isn’t in the way of something I need they’re lucky enough to fight another day.

In a sort of twisted way, I enjoy watching them.  The yellow and black garden spider weaves a sticky web with a thick zig zag that seems to attract bugs to their untimely demise.


The daring jumping spider lies in wait until an unsuspecting meal  moseys by.  My mom and I watched a huge one on my kitchen window as it hunted house flies.  It only took about two minutes and he had a satisfying meal.


The wolf spiders are as stealthy and quick as their namesake.  I was sure my tired eyes were playing a trick on me when I saw one seep up out of the floorboards and dart towards me.  Wolf spiders definitely aren’t my favorite.


Hobo spiders look pretty similar to wolf spiders but seem to be much more ubiquitous.  They’re in the grass, hanging out on the walls, clutching to the ceiling–everywhere.


The dainty cellar spider is probably the most aptly named of them all.  Not a corner of our cellar is free from them.  Make that practically every corner of our house.  For a while, I had a “pet” in the kitchen.  She had spun a delicate web in an out-of-the-way corner.  She just did her job, capturing tasty little gnats.  One less bug for me to squish.


Orb weaver spiders are masterful at knitting a web.  They can construct a web in an afternoon that’s strong and sticky to trap all kinds of unlucky bugs.  It has to be sturdy too–they’re some of the hairiest, fattest spiders I’ve ever seen.


Mind you, spiders give me the creeps like any normal person but I’m willing to share my world with them, realizing they do much more good than harm.

We just admire each other from a distance is all.

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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