Spider surge
By Frank Mand
GateHouse News Service
Wed Sep 19, 2007, 07:22 PM EDT
Kingston -
Like Fifth Columnists, tiny spiders are coming through the living room
window under cover of ladybugs.

There's an untidy garden of flowers, a pear tree sapling, and a weed
pretending to be a bush on the other side of that window, so we are used
to seeing small dark, winged specks come through the tattered mesh

The baby spiders are just about the same size as the ladybugs. So, in the
corner of your eye they don't arouse suspicion. Until that is, the mother
ships arrive.
I've heard that this is Spider season, whatever that means. I suppose

is at least a hopeful designation, suggesting that most of these spiders
are vacationing, or taking short-term leases, and should be headed back
"home" once the cooler weather gets a firm hold.

Still, some of these spiders are not as well-mannered as you might expect
tourists to be.

There are the 101st Airborne Spiders (my designation for them, not an
official scientific term), who drop down in front of the TV while you are
watching, unconcerned that they are interrupting your show.

Then, there are those Arachnids who spin webs, overnight, in public
places. On doorknobs or across hallways, or from bedpost to bedpost.

I'm wrong, but I always thought there were certain, semi-officially
designated, acceptable places for house spiders to engineer their webs -
and the spigot in the bathroom was never one of them.

It may be me, but I have the sense that spiders, as a species, are
becoming more and more aggressive.

Even cockroaches show more sensitivity, coming out only under cover of
darkness and then scurrying for cover if the lights come on unexpectedly.

But the modern day house spider often insolently parades over the living
room rug in the middle of the day, in the middle of Oprah for God's sake

and only scurries for cover when you have a rolled magazine poised above
them.

In the past I attributed the fat, swollen, itchy lumps that appeared on

arms and legs, between my toes, on the back of my neck and elsewhere at
this time of year to a wide variety of ointments, water treatments, ants,
fleas, tics and such, which share a certain occult nature. But today I'm
fairly certain that spiders are the cause.

I've counted seven varieties on our first floor alone.
Did you ever notice how everyone exaggerates the size of a spider? When
you hear a description of a spider it is never less than an inch long,
always hairy, and usually said to have strange stripes and spots and,

also heard people say, speech impediments.

I saw one of those the other day - a big, hairy, spotted and striped
spider with a pronounced lisp - in the family room, and before I could
squash it with my foot, it leaped into the air, yelled out "thufferin'
thuccoatash," and traveled about a yard before landing, purposefully I
believe, smack dab in the middle of an oriental rug. (Did you ever notice
how I use the phrase, smack dab at least once in every column?)

Once on the Oriental, it was effectively camouflaged - so I had to throw
the whole rug away.

According to my research, it was actually either a Wolf Spider or a
Traveling Salesman Spider. It all happened very quickly, but I did think

got a glimpse of a small leather valise held by one of its eight hairy
legs.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh, that's right: In the last three weeks I've recorded definitive
sightings of 11 separate species of spider on our first floor alone.

A Jumping Spider was easily identified, when it jumped into a cup of
coffee that I had just put down on the little display table in the middle
of the room. Jumping Spiders look like little fuzzy legged spiders
carrying school rings but, as I discovered when I poured the coffee out
onto a ball of wadded paper towels, that school ring is actually their
colorful abdomen.

I also easily identified a Nursery Web Spider, which is also called a
Fishing Spider, when I chased it out the house and into the neighbor's
yard where - faced with a choice of either a boot-wielding madman or a

in the neighbors pool - it jumped in and submerged itself.

I'm afraid of pool water, so I thought nothing of it until a week later
when my neighbor had a pool party and I suddenly heard the scream of an
arachnophobic woman who decided to take a late night dip.

By the way, isn't the notion of arachnophobia silly? I mean, who isn't
afraid of spiders? Just like you can't tell me that when you swim in the
ocean somewhere in the back of your mind you aren't thinking, shark!
People with phobias are supposedly mentally unstable and unreasonably
obsessive, but isn't it stranger not to be afraid of spiders or sharks or
clowns?

Anyway, after a brief conversation with my neighbor, I realized that I

correctly identified that speedy, three-inch, hairy-legged creature as a
Pool Party Spider.
And speaking of clowns, I also identified another spider that had been
lurking in the basement - based on the red nose, the large feet, and the
tiny little car it drove around in (and an abdomen shaped like a seltzer
bottle), as a Clown Spider.
Anyway, you get my point. I think there is something odd going on in

of spiders, at least in my house.

I know it's Spider season, but I'm kind of worried that Labor Day has

and gone and these guys are still hanging around.

I'm thinking this is a Spider surge and, if so, I'm going to have to get
used to the idea of spiders in the house for years to come.

Read No Mand's Land weekly in the Plymouth Bulletin. E-mail
PlymouthMand@Aol.com or visit FrankMand.Blogspot.com.

http://www.townonline.com/kingston/opinion/x1649542440

Spider surge
By Frank Mand
GateHouse News Service
Wed Sep 19, 2007, 07:22 PM EDT
Kingston -
Like Fifth Columnists, tiny spiders are coming through the living room
window under cover of ladybugs.

There's an untidy garden of flowers, a pear tree sapling, and a weed
pretending to be a bush on the other side of that window, so we are used
to seeing small dark, winged specks come through the tattered mesh screen.

The baby spiders are just about the same size as the ladybugs. So, in the
corner of your eye they don't arouse suspicion. Until that is, the mother
ships arrive.
I've heard that this is Spider season, whatever that means. I suppose that
is at least a hopeful designation, suggesting that most of these spiders
are vacationing, or taking short-term leases, and should be headed back
"home" once the cooler weather gets a firm hold.

Still, some of these spiders are not as well-mannered as you might expect
tourists to be.

There are the 101st Airborne Spiders (my designation for them, not an
official scientific term), who drop down in front of the TV while you are
watching, unconcerned that they are interrupting your show.

Then, there are those Arachnids who spin webs, overnight, in public
places. On doorknobs or across hallways, or from bedpost to bedpost. Maybe
I'm wrong, but I always thought there were certain, semi-officially
designated, acceptable places for house spiders to engineer their webs -
and the spigot in the bathroom was never one of them.

It may be me, but I have the sense that spiders, as a species, are
becoming more and more aggressive.

Even cockroaches show more sensitivity, coming out only under cover of
darkness and then scurrying for cover if the lights come on unexpectedly.

But the modern day house spider often insolently parades over the living
room rug in the middle of the day, in the middle of Oprah for God's sake -
and only scurries for cover when you have a rolled magazine poised above
them.

In the past I attributed the fat, swollen, itchy lumps that appeared on my
arms and legs, between my toes, on the back of my neck and elsewhere at
this time of year to a wide variety of ointments, water treatments, ants,
fleas, tics and such, which share a certain occult nature. But today I'm
fairly certain that spiders are the cause.

I've counted seven varieties on our first floor alone.
Did you ever notice how everyone exaggerates the size of a spider? When
you hear a description of a spider it is never less than an inch long,
always hairy, and usually said to have strange stripes and spots and, I've
also heard people say, speech impediments.

I saw one of those the other day - a big, hairy, spotted and striped
spider with a pronounced lisp - in the family room, and before I could
squash it with my foot, it leaped into the air, yelled out "thufferin'
thuccoatash," and traveled about a yard before landing, purposefully I
believe, smack dab in the middle of an oriental rug. (Did you ever notice
how I use the phrase, smack dab at least once in every column?)

Once on the Oriental, it was effectively camouflaged - so I had to throw
the whole rug away.

According to my research, it was actually either a Wolf Spider or a
Traveling Salesman Spider. It all happened very quickly, but I did think I
got a glimpse of a small leather valise held by one of its eight hairy
legs.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh, that's right: In the last three weeks I've recorded definitive
sightings of 11 separate species of spider on our first floor alone.

A Jumping Spider was easily identified, when it jumped into a cup of
coffee that I had just put down on the little display table in the middle
of the room. Jumping Spiders look like little fuzzy legged spiders
carrying school rings but, as I discovered when I poured the coffee out
onto a ball of wadded paper towels, that school ring is actually their
colorful abdomen.

I also easily identified a Nursery Web Spider, which is also called a
Fishing Spider, when I chased it out the house and into the neighbor's
yard where - faced with a choice of either a boot-wielding madman or a dip
in the neighbors pool - it jumped in and submerged itself.

I'm afraid of pool water, so I thought nothing of it until a week later
when my neighbor had a pool party and I suddenly heard the scream of an
arachnophobic woman who decided to take a late night dip.

By the way, isn't the notion of arachnophobia silly? I mean, who isn't
afraid of spiders? Just like you can't tell me that when you swim in the
ocean somewhere in the back of your mind you aren't thinking, shark!
People with phobias are supposedly mentally unstable and unreasonably
obsessive, but isn't it stranger not to be afraid of spiders or sharks or
clowns?

Anyway, after a brief conversation with my neighbor, I realized that I had
correctly identified that speedy, three-inch, hairy-legged creature as a
Pool Party Spider.
And speaking of clowns, I also identified another spider that had been
lurking in the basement - based on the red nose, the large feet, and the
tiny little car it drove around in (and an abdomen shaped like a seltzer
bottle), as a Clown Spider.
Anyway, you get my point. I think there is something odd going on in terms
of spiders, at least in my house.

I know it's Spider season, but I'm kind of worried that Labor Day has come
and gone and these guys are still hanging around.

I'm thinking this is a Spider surge and, if so, I'm going to have to get
used to the idea of spiders in the house for years to come.

Read No Mand's Land weekly in the Plymouth Bulletin. E-mail
PlymouthMand@Aol.com or visit FrankMand.Blogspot.com.

http://www.townonline.com/kingston/opinion/x1649542440