It’s only a spider. And it’s not just any old spider, it’s straight from the East End this morning. Definitely a cockney.
Mind you, I can talk. I visited family at the weekend and before I could sleep in the room they had to remove the cobra skeleton, the snakeskin handbag and cover up the alligator skin on the wall. I put up with the mini squished desiccated baby gator and an ossified lizard at eye-level.
I know nature says it’s autumn now. Not because it is cold and wet and dreary (facing facts there are plenty of summer days that fit that description) and the mornings are darker, but because I can’t go out without tripping over squirrels and getting tangled in cobwebs.
The squirrels are driving the dog nuts. The sooner they go into hibernation the better I me and my shoulders will like it. The Brain of Britain could never be a squirrel though could it, or indeed the div brain that is the dog? That award goes to this rather magnificently enormous spider (read no further if you are phobic) that has spun a marvellous web above my compost bin.
When I take the lid off the bin, the little fruit-type flies that live in the rotting material, that aspires to be compost, fly up and out and straight into the artful arachnid’s web. Such forward planning would come in handy for any of us. I haven’t been out there today, I just hope it has a brolly.