Along came a spider.....

.... and built a web beside her......

I have had it (HAD IT) with spiders. Every morning as I make my way from the back porch to the chicken coop, I carry a big walking-stick in my right hand and I wave it in front of me like a sword. If the neighbors were closer and could see me, they would honestly think I have lost my mind. The stick-waving has a purpose.... it knocks down all the spider webs that were built during the night, and wouldn't you know--- mostly all of them are right along that path from the house to the coop. Twenty-three acres on our property and wouldn't you think the spiders could pick another spot?! Like off in the middle of the pastures or down by the pond or way back past the barn or out near the woods?!

So there I go each morning, whacking that stick against the webs, sending spiders flying through the air and down to the ground and if they land close enough to my feet I just smash them silly. (Please, no letters from the spider-lovers out there.) Some of the spiders are itty-bitty brown ones, others are black with yellow legs, and still others are deep ebony steroid-soaked-spiders with legs that are nearly three inches long. (No joke, no exaggeration.)

You would think that one morning's worth of web-whacking and spider-smashing would be enough for one day. Not a chance. By lunch time, a few industrious spiders have re-built the webs in the choicest spots (like under the arbors or across the courtyard paths). By dinner time, mostly all of the web-sites that were sent into the Twilight Zone at first light are now up and running and ready for you to walk into.... and the longest, thickest part of that blasted web is going to end up right across your face, I guarantee it.

So, along with the neighbors (if they're looking through binoculars) watching me swinging that big old stick around the yard, they will also see me hopping from side to side along the quarry stone path, bending my head towards the ground so my hair will be upside down and my two hands will be flailing through my hair at warp speed to get out any spiders that may have come down on top of me along with their blasted webs.

This part of Texas shouldn't be called The Hill Country. They should have called it The Scorpion Snake Armadillo Raccoon Bat Possum Spider Hawk Coyote Country. And heaven only knows what else is out there that we haven't seen yet.

If it weren't for this beautiful property, this majestic hundred-year old house, the sounds of the horses and goats across the road, the birds and the chickens in our yard, the magnificent sunrises in our side yard and the unbelievable sunsets in our back yard, and the peace of mind that comes over you when you're not interrupted by the insect world and the local wildlife...... I'd be out of here in a heart-beat.