The other day one of my coworkers was showing pictures of his garage remodel. It was a beautiful, fancy space that I would have felt guilty driving a car into. I think his garage is bigger than my entire condo!
My very first thought, which fortunately I was able to refrain from asking, was, “Where do the spiders live?”
Growing up, and even as an adult, every garage I ever had was unfinished: no drywall to be found and with exposed beams all around. It gave more depth for storing stuff, and to me it simply was how garages should be.
In those little alcoves lived the spiders. My Ma taught me that spiders eat bugs that we don’t see, and we should leave them alone. Daddy Long Legs in particular were our friends, even when they chose to live in the house.
Being a Southern California gal, I grew up with a healthy respect for the black widow spider.
I saw several growing up, mainly in the garage.
A couple months ago, DH2U and I were doing some work in the garden (a huge treat for me lately!) when I exclaimed, “A black widow!”
“Ummmm. Please point. ‘There’ is not specific enough.”
He had never seen a black widow before, having grown up in a very different climate. After looking at it for a while, we kept our respectful distance and continued gardening.
As I was asking permission to use the story for this post, DH2U pointed out that I’m good at using pronouns without explaining their antecedents. My response: “I know. It is part of my charm!” Fortunately we both laughed at that!
Survey – Garages: Finished or not? or Am I the only one that reacts so calmly to poisonous spiders? (It would be so different if one were climbing on me!)