One of my Facebook friends recently wrote about her fear of spiders; …”there is a SPIDER out there, and I'm petrified!” She mentioned being neurotic about them, and as defined by the dictionary, I also am! A neuorsis is accompanied by various physical, physiological and mental disturbances; anxieties or phobias. Yep, that’s me when it comes to spiders.
Since my early years, nightmares of spiders covering the floor around my bed have kept me from putting a foot out of bed, and watching Arachnophobia sure didn’t help that! My first day of teaching, I opened the door for my third-graders to walk in, and there in the doorway sat a huge spider, and yes, I could almost hear it rasp, “You’ll never get past me, much less teach!” HA! I thought as I squished him, heart pounding, face with a phony smile.
Over the years I have worked at becoming more tolerant, studying spiders, their habits and homes, and I’ve gained a grudging respect for the orb arachnids. They’re the ones which labor in the garden, weaving beautiful, round, intricate webs to catch their prey. The ones which disgust me most are those which lie in wait under refuse or wood (even under a toilet seat) i.e. the brown recluse and black widow, lazily watching for a victim. Ugh and ugh again!!
About the aforementioned mental disturbances, a prime example of that also happened in my classroom. A friend had offered a living tarantula as a so-called pet to me. Again, trying to work through my phobia, I accepted his “gift” and had him put it in a wire-front cage. The children loved to watch “Charlotte,” such an original name, as she crawled slowly around on the floor of the cage. For myself, not watching her was fine with me. However, one afternoon as I sat in the front of the room, reading aloud to the kids, I happened to glance up when Charlotte jumped on to the wire and spread out her eight hairy legs. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you an electric shock went through me even though a good thirty feet and four rows of kids separated us! Normal? I think not.
Actually, my fear doesn’t mirror the young woman on a recent commercial whose screams prompt her dad to beat the picture of a spider on a cell phone to death, but I’m close. Grateful isn’t a strong enough word for the dear guys who have come to our home over the years to exterminate spiders.
This was in our paper yesterday. It's the full moon and a you-know-what!
It's great that you've tried to appreciate the spiders Joan! I admire that because I sure have NOT tried to do the same. Spiders are the worst!
ReplyDeletewonderful blog, joan! the "mental disturbances" portion of the definition of neurosis fits me without a doubt when it comes to these creatures with all of those fat, hairy legs (especially the ones who jump); they do indeed weave gorgeous webs, so my suggestion is that perhaps we shouldn't kill them, but have the animal control agencies round them up and drop them off in distant deserts somewhere far, far away (such as in another galaxy); conversely, we could just have them dropped off at dave and sarah's house so that sarah can call the oh-so-cute billie the exterminator in person. of course, shooting them into space isn't even an answer, as they'd leave behind children, parents, and grandparents, all of whom undoubtedly have very healthy reproductive systems; after much consideration, i've decided to revert to my original, lifetime plan of action when one of "them" has the audacity to invade my world -- shriek as though i was being dismembered until some brave soul shows up to kill it. if it weren't properly relocated more than a mile away, i'd dream of it finding its way into my room, hiding ominously. i love your blogs, joan, and particularly this one !
ReplyDeleteLove this comment. Thank you so much. Joan
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