Letters From a Silverware Thief

If you have arachnophobia you don’t want to read this.

We live out in the country, so naturally there is a large selection of bugs and critters showing up in the course of everyday life. You can either fight this invasion of nature, live with it, or enjoy it.

I do the last.

In fact, I have a collection of spiders in our bathroom.

It all started somewhat by accident.

In our house “bugs” (to be unscientific) fall into three categories: those that are killed at every opportunity, those that are tolerated, and those which have some favorable sanction. Flies are the preeminent example of a bug that is killed at every opportunity. Laybugs are tolerated. They make a mess when they all eventually die in the window frames, but what are you going to do? You can either spend your time trying to deal with them all while they are alive, or else just vacuum them all up once they die naturally. Besides, outside, ladybugs perform a helpful function in keeping down certain pest bugs, so the gardener in me is not inclined to look on them unfavorably.

Spiders are in the last category of having some favorable sanction. They eat flies, so in our continual summer war against the flies, spiders are something of an unofficial ally. Besides, they are fascinating, if you’ve ever stopped to study them.

Anyhow, for years our primary spider company was various generations of daddy-long-legs which would live and die in various corners of the house. Once nature had run its course, or the webs started collecting noticeable dust, it was time to take a broom and clean up the debris and let things start over from scratch. But, this year new arachnoid inhabitants moved into the bathroom. These were big, strong, black spiders. These were spiders straight out of the nightmares of arachnophobia.

The first two spiders of this new strain initially moved into the window, between the glass and the storm window. However, life was good to them; the bug population this year has been robust, and they got plenty of catches. They began to migrate out of the window and into the bathroom proper. These were big, hairy creatures, and you couldn’t well miss them. I, actually, would keep an eye out for them when I went into the bathroom to see where they had recently moved to. They tended to stay in the vicinity of a light, but they would travel surprisingly far distances, sometimes being found in a web at one end of the bathroom, only to move back to the other.

I think the first two spiders were a male and female . . . this is based on the conjecture that eggs were laid and now we have more spiders in the bathroom. The original daddy-long-legs are starting to be crowded out by this big hairy breed. I feel like sometime I will have to put a stop to all of this, but at the moment I am fascinated, and wondering exactly how many generations of spiders I can get going at once. As best I can tell, the two original spiders are still around, and a few of the baby spiders have stuck around since they hatched, and seem to be growing up. I’m wondering how much longer the previous generation will live. I was surprised they did not die after laying the eggs, but the fur on one seems to have changed color, and I’m guessing he/she won’t be around much longer.

However, even after the first generation dies, there is still the question of what the offspring will do. How much multiplication can we have before the bathroom window can’t supply enough bugs? And how fast will these baby spiders grow?

I really will have to kick them all out come fall. The webs will need to be cleaned up, and I’m also sensitive to the fact that this little interest of mine is not exactly . . . er . . . socially acceptable. I mean, it could be a source of awkwardness with guests. It’s one thing if I told someone that I had a collection of spiders. It is another thing entirely to holler as they head toward the bathroom, “Don’t mind the spiders! They won’t bite!” They are not exactly discreet, being large, hairy, black, and right in front of the window, which is next to the sink and in clear view of the toilet. I think they are interesting, and have taken pictures of them . . . but even I would feel a bit embarrassed if some guest was too revolted (or afraid) to use the bathroom because they didn’t like Charlotte or Shelob living in front of the window.

So . . . they will have to go eventually, and if anyone reading this has been in the bathroom in the mean time and was quite terrified, you have my apologies.

I actually don’t like sweeping up spider webs that are still in use. They are just spiders, but somehow it feels a bit cruel to destroy all the hard work of a spider. I pity spiders a little bit because they are these ferocious little creatures that are trying to defend their little domain in a big world they are helpless against. Spiders can fight each other for control of a web. They will face off and twang threads of the web. Whoever gives the more furious shaking of the web wins . . . sometimes I’ve even seen a bit of grappling between spiders, but I think they prefer to settle the matter just by seeing who is the mightier web shaker. In a similar manner, I’ve bumped spider webs and seen the spider run out and do the equivalent of going “Aaaarrrrrghhhhh!” and start shaking the web with all its might to frighten off this encroachment of its domain. I see this, and feel a little bad about sweeping up such a warrior like so much detritus.

I suppose I have strange sympathies.