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I think my recent posts may have revealed that I've spent perhaps a bit too much time reading up on Black Widows. Rattlesnake antivenin, anyone? I did not grow up with them--or was blissfully ignorant--and so when we moved out here I was incredibly paranoid.

And it's amazing to live in a world where we can get almost-instant gratification for information, isn't it? Granted, not any kind of information...not some of the important things: Does he love her? I wonder how I could help X. Why is Pixie sad today? How can I help Bud understand why Jesus let the S.'s house burn? Why do I KEEP doing that?

Still, there's a lot of info out there. And sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words, right?

For example, when you see this:



You know several things already, such as:

(1) Someone has been scribbling on the carpet.
(2) A lot.
(3) And not with washable crayon.
(4) That's neon crayon, with lots of dye.

Today, as I sit at my computer, I am thinking nostalgically of "Google" searches I've done...in the last week or so.

How to get crayon out of carpet
How to get crayon off the wall
The Getty Museum
Where do Black Widow Spiders like to live?
How to get crayon out of carpet (yes, again; why bother to remember it when I can just Google it again?!?)
How to get ink out of upholstery


Welcome to my weird, furniture-ruining little world. What have you Googled lately?

Happier Times Outside

Since the BW invasion last week, J got two more of them Saturday night. In a world where evil is often dressed up to try to look attractive and darkness parades itself as Light, I do appreciate that Black Widow Spiders make no such attempt. They are clearly on the dark side...unapologetically jet black, with the most sinister and instantly recognizable limbs I've ever seen in an arachnid. You don't have to see the little red hourglass--really. Just one of those legs poking out is plenty for you to know what you're dealing with.

Thank you, Lord, for making this unhealthy thing so...revolting. Please, so attune my tastes and open my eyes to see all such dangerous things for what they really are...especially those that can "... destroy both soul and body..." (Matt. 10:28).

On to happier times!

Saturday J was spreading the load of mulch we'd had delivered, and called me to see this beautiful sight:


No, not the artichoke...although I'm excited about those.

See the little guys? We didn't even buy them and bring them in...they just showed up where the aphids are! An army of them!

I LOVE watching ladybugs go after aphids. The precious, sweet little ladybug of fairy books and little-girl Halloween costumes looks quite different on the ground when it's doing its job. Ruthless exterminators. Grimly efficient pesticides. Show-no-mercy bugs!

I don't think ladybugs would make it onto 75% of greeting cards and baby books if the illustrators had ever gotten down and watched one of these things take out a line of aphids. Amazing! It's like watching a lion with a...with a duck or something, in miniature!

Anyway, those ladybugs make me really happy. They've been there for days.


Oh, and here's a shot of my back flower bed these days. Even though there's a ways to go yet, I'm really excited to have blooming flowers...and herbs down on the end! Whose yard IS this, anyway??

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

When you see this at your house, it is bad:


This kind of web means you have an unfriendly visitor who's black and bulbous with a red hourglass on her abdomen, and she could send you to the emergency room in no time flat.

Oh, and it would hurt.

Oh, and taking the antivenin could greatly reduce your responsiveness to the antivenin for rattlesnakes...which you don't want to do. Because if you're the type to be bitten by a black widow spider, my guess is rattlesnakes, avalanches and bolts of lightning are just around the corner.

Don't want to lose the magical antivenin powers. No, sir.

Fortunately on those counts, she's very shy and doesn't like to be seen. She will not lead a charge, hoping to take you out and thereby clear her path to all insects and spiders. She's really quite content with her dark little corner. A "fences make good neighbors" sort of gal.

However, with three young children running about the place, when I see this, I feel no mercy.

We've had a real upsurge around here lately. A couple of months ago I didn't like the look of a web that had gathered around Wombles' little hiking boot on the back porch. So when the time came to do laundry, I threw it in the washing machine, just to make sure.

I went back to close the lid, and there she was...a big beauty, sitting right on top of an island made by my jeans.

Application point? If you suspect a black widow is lurking inside of a shoe, there are better ways to deal with it than bringing it inside your house. Just flush it with a water hose, or something. I never found the corpse, and so was shifting loads of laundry with rubber gloves for ...well, until J found out I was doing it, looked at me in disbelief, and stuck his arms down the legs of my jeans (which I'd not worn out of fear). He shamed me out of my thick blue gardening-come-laundry gloves.



J got the B.W. on the front porch last night with poison, but the beauty of the web above had been eluding us for weeks. J would see her, go grab something to smash her with, and she'd be gone. There was some sort of hidden venting, or something.

And I guess one of the points of this whole post is to say: I GOT HER TODAY! VICTORY! TRIUMPH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Last night, after he got the other one, J sprayed this web with the poison. I know, I don't like poisons either...but see "antivenin," above. No prisoners, baby.

I went out on a hunch this morning, and there she was! Moving, but sickly. And now moving no more.

As of this morning, there are no known black widows at our house!!!...

(sick feeling in stomach) That's not true. There's one more suspicious web, but I'm scared to face it because there are so many hidey-holes around it...I'll have to empty the dresser...and it's inside the house.

Bravado gone. Send reinforcements, please.

Just Ask Pioneer Woman

What is this?

This is a worm trap that Bud built at the supper table tonight.

He built a worm trap and then explained to J, "I'm going to catch a worm, and then look on the Pioneer Woman for a recipe to cook worms."

He figures if people eat snails, they'll eat worms.

And apparently, Pioneer Woman knows how to cook anything (you can tell what he hears at our house, anyway).

He also explained that "a snail is just a slug with a shell...you can tell by the eyes and stuff."

Kinda gross.

Any guesses on what his worm trap was made of?

Tug of War

It's Summertime!

Almost, anyway. Officially it's Mayterm, which is the next best thing. We had a truly May-Gray day today; sprinkles, even! Moisture! The heater on! (I'm a wimp).

One of may favoritest things about May/summer term is that J has more time at home. Sure, he still goes in to work every day, but there's no grading/prep/etc. at night and no half-Saturdays, either (a school-year staple). Yippee!

The kids love it as much as I do. here's one recent reason why (these were NOT taken today, by the way):

A man is down! Repeat, a man is down!

Summertime=more playtime!

Earth to Wombles... Come in, Wombles...

Aunt Cupcake and Uncle Keg gave Bud a set for Christmas that included walkie-talkies.

I'm happy to say that as of my return from San Diego at the end of April the walkie-talkies have been happily used. It took me four months to (1) buy the right kind of batteries, (2) realize I didn't have the right size screwdriver to open the battery compartment and insert said batteries, and (3) be in the right place at the right time when I remembered the screwdriver thing. I stopped at Wal-Mart on my way home from San Diego, and voila! --got the screwdriver.

For us, living in the land of high-end boutiques and Rite-Aid drugstores, getting to Wal-Mart or Target (cue angel choir) is like Pa Ingalls getting to Independence, Missouri for plate-glass windows and nails.

Back to the Walkie-talkies.

I remember having walkie-talkies with one of my younger brothers. It was awesome. We played army. I started to learn Morse code (it was printed right there on the front of the WT, and I couldn't resist the annoying beeping sound).

So, I was really looking forward to vicariously enjoying these walkie-talkies.




Here are some of the conversations I overheard:

"Hey, Bud, can you hear me?"
"No!"
"Hey, Bud, can you hear me?"
"No!"
"Hey, Bud, can you hear me?"
"No!"

That was one.




(Allow the camera to pan out, showing the full scene)




"Hey, Bud, these are phones, right?" (shouting)
"No! They're walkie TALKIES!!"


Towards the end, Bud felt Wombles had been through enough training to actually try using the walkie-talkies as... walkie-talkies. He stood up and headed for another room.



"Hey, Wombles!"
"Hey, Bud!"
"I'm goin'."
"I'm goin'."
"No, stay. I'm goin'."
"I'm comin'."

"...You'll never be able to get up in my bed."*

They'll figure it out one of these years.

Thanks, C & K!!


*Which, by the way, is simply not true. Last week, after bedtime, I went to answer Wombles' shriek only to find him stuck on top of Bud's dresser. Bud had coached him up into his top bunk (sans ladder, the monkey) but he got stuck when he tried to climb back down to get his water cup.

She may be Seven...

...but she's still my Baby.