spider nomme) in the pink rose white waiting 050705 ... nomme) waiting in the pink white rose 050705 ... nomme) in the pink white rose waiting 050705 ... nomme) waiting in white the pink rose 050705 ... nomme) in the white pink rose 050705 ... nomme) white spider waiting in the white of the pink rose 050705 ... nom please don't bite me 070315 ... nom there was a lil baby black jumper living on my blinds for the past week i finally just now put it out on my windowsill and it didn't seem hardly scared when i encouraged it to crawl onto my hand 070403 ... epitome of incomprehensibility For some reason now I usually address spiders as "cutie pie." My mother will tell me to remove one without killing it, and I'll cup my hands around it and say, "C'mere, cutie pie, time to go outside," as if I'm talking to a kitten. But I get distinctly uncomfortable if I find a spider or an ant crawling on me. 141118 ... e_o_i Winter is good because there are no ants in the kitchen. But spiders are good at hiding. 141118 ... tender_square the web hung like a decorative corner bracket, a doily stitched in silk. i was sure it was a mottled moth stuck in there. i curved an arby's flyer and caught in the paper mitt. when i shook the sheet into the trash the insect bloomed into eight legs and slipped beneath this morning's coffee grounds. and then my guilt for leaving this helpless creature in a 30-gallon trash bin. later, i lifted the lid and saw the spider perched on the stem of days old daisies, too spooked to be scooped. and finally, hours later, it had climbed near the summit, and i tried to offer it a bridge to outside. the spider dangled on the outer edge of the garbage lid, twisting in mid air. i swatted the web to ground and the spider crawled quickly away. quick thinking, i trapped it in a tupperware. the spider was frenzied in the confines until i lifted the lid and set him free on the driveway as the night began to spit. 230814 ... raze it nested inside the shattered glass of the lone lantern on the side porch i came to think of as the front of the house. black and bulbous. bigger than anything i ever saw crawling around in any attic or basement or bathroom. my mother lost her mind when she saw the insect i came to think of as a silent protector. i was sad to see it die. it sat there in its broken home, surrounded by the silk its stomach had spun, until the wind took it away. 240120 what's it to you? who go blather from