This summer certainly has held a variety of experiences and emotions. All year I've looked forward to this summer simply in anticipation of the 8th graders leaving. On May 21st, that dream was realized. And on May 23rd, the wonder of a Summer Without A Job or Anything Else on My Agenda began. Or so I thought. That following weekend was wondrous. I slept in, had no stress and felt no guilt about ordering a pizza and renting movies and staying up late.
By May 27th, I was bored out of my skull. There is only so much TV to watch (and, let's face it: summer TV sucks) and are only so many naps to take before you begin cleaning the kitchen to avoid going stark raving mad. And by the 28th, my kitchen was SPARKLING. Thankfully, the next 3 days were occupied with a music teacher conference at which I reconnected with some old friends and added some tools to my teaching bag. The next week followed a similar pattern; bored stiff through Tuesday, but rescued by curriculum planning W,T,F
(On closer examination, the abbreviations of those days may be more appropriate than I thought!).
And then? Joy of Joys! It was June 7th and I got on a plane for Texas. That evening, after meeting Red's family (which is cool, despite all the hugging :-D), we had our first date. We saw Kung Fu Panda. I highly recommend it. Sunday was church and then we headed out for Harmony Hills Singing School. It was a week of living in a tent in high humidity and astonishing heat; a week of raw throats from singing and high spirits from the companionship; all in all, a great week. Red and I took Wednesday off and went and wondered downtown Ft. Worth. It was fun. Nothing spectacular, but quietly enjoyable. Friday was the culminating concert and we headed back to his grandparents' house for the rest of the weekend. Saturday evening we had our second date and went to a Ft. Worth Symphony Orchestra concert at the Botanical Gardens. It was, of course, hot and humid, but it was so much fun! They played an (almost) all Russian concert (the almost part took the form of a 17 year old playing Totentanz by Liszt), capped off with the 1812 Overture complete with Fireworks. It was (not to put too fine a point on it) a perfect evening. Sunday was church again and of course somewhat bittersweet. Truth be told, it was more bitter than sweet. And Monday he drove me to the airport and I flew home. It was the saddest flight ever.
The next two weeks found me at loose ends again.
Susan, et al., came in to town and we got to hang out a bit. On Saturday the 28th, I cleaned my house top to bottom. It looked good! I got to babysit LG that evening and as I was waiting for them to arrive, I sat in the recliner and talked to Red. And then I noticed a ginormous spider on the ceiling. It was MASSIVE.
(ok, in retrospect, it wasn't THAT big, but it was large and I'm sure it had devious plans in mind.) I think he was in cahoots with
George and
Jean-Pierre. Unlikely, you say? Well think about it. I know it's been two years since my last contact with those fine foreign fellows, but it's not inconceivable that it simply takes two years for word to travel half-way across the world via the World Wide Insect-Web. Needless to say, I did not take the time to have a conversation with the spider (hereafter known as The Enemy) to find out his nefarious plans. (It should be pointed out that Red urged me to attack him myself, but I wisely declined. Not out of fear but rather the knowledge that something that large could very easily take the broom from me and turn it on me. And I was not willing to risk
THAT!) Instead I waited until Susan got there and had BG attack The Enemy with the broom. He swiped at it and The Enemy dropped down to the ground and scurried into the hall closet. EEP!
I never did see him come out, but I could feel the hate and malice radiating out from the closet all evening.
The next day, I turned on the swamp cooler and out he jumped! It was freaky. It was almost like he just appeared, like magic. Or a transporter. Beam me up, Scotty.
Unfortunately, I was the only one there and there were no more brothers-in-law scheduled to show up. So, I screwed my courage to the sticking place and, armed with a broom and Raid, waged war on the Eight Legged Menace. I stabbed him with the broom and he tried to pull his "Fall and Run" maneuver, but I was too quick. As he hit the top of the bookshelf, BAM! another blow of the broom rained down on him, severing two of his white and black and yellow banded legs. He fell to the floor and tried frantically to hobble his way to the safety of the hall closet, but, like white on rice, I was there, cutting him off at every turn. Down came the broom once more and then came a veritable shower of Raid. He curled into a small, six-legged, defensive ball, trying to feebly ward off the Shower of Death. And slowly, his muscles relaxed and he breathed in the toxins and he died. At least, he looked like he died. But spiders are tricky, so I did not trust the apparent termination of my foe. I sprayed once again for good measure and brought the terrible and mighty fury of my broom to full bear once again. And then I left him there; a small, impotent mash of legs and squashed innards. And I didn't look back. My eyes blazed with triumph. My body hummed with adrenaline and the thrill of war. I was victorious.
To any in the insect world who happen to be reading this: Let this be a warning to you.
