I Shall Call Him...Mini Me.

Sunday I was trying to avoid my inevitable suffering that I predict I'll endure with the forthcoming winter weather, which is due to make it's debut tomorrow (today/Monday) with chilly rain followed by more drizzle and snow, by readying several outdoorsy tasks.... Yuck. (This past week has been incredibly windy, but I have managed to 'breeze' through it by zooming maniacally on my bike TOWARDS work, and then laboriously peddling home FROM it. What a drag.)

So I hung out a load of clothes wearing gloves, ate a small icy-crisp turnip I pulled ½ out of the ground, checked antifreeze in all the antique/crappy vehicle radiators, indecisively aired up a couple nearly-low tires, put away some flowerpots, took down a hammock, and once back indoors, made some Gingersnap cookies to warm up the kitchen and headed toward the dreaded back-room basement where the furnace lurks in the cobwebs and dust....

MOTHER! Eeeeck! Ick. A huge, I mean ridiculously HUGE wolf spider was guarding the old wooden plank door. I cringed and shivered because I had performed another challenging task earlier—placing my hands on a heavy glass aquarium and actually moving the Tarantula Fritz to a new corner of the house—away from a breezy old windy, because, despite my dislike of these 8-legged critters, I still couldn't bear to see it's demise if it slowly chilled, curled up and died like a frozen upside-down flower—plus the darn thing cost $25 bucks.
HORRORS. The wolf spider sat still (probably too chilly to skitter away) so I eventually got an old mason jar and scooped it up so I could venture forward and replace the furnace filter.

Pardon the language, but this really PI$$ES ME OFF. I hate to turn on the furnace before Thanksgiving. (Last year I begrudgingly did, but only because Paula and her sis were here a lot.) I just hate to give in to winter. To adjust the thermostat and turn the knob to 'heat' means that summer is really OVER and I must succumb to the dark nights and sunless days, scraping windshields, the frozen fingers and toes, the icy wind blowing tears from your eyes, and wearing numerous layers just to stay alive with some semblance of comfort.

So today I decided to drive an old clunker car instead of biking-- stopping by the chiropractor at 7:30am—of course the battery screwed up so I got to walk on to work, then walk home in the damp cold rain and get sopping wet feet...yes, whaa, whaa, whaa; quit whining!

But I placed the wolf spider by Fritz's heatlight, gave it a small cricket and decided they could nearly be related—sneaky, hairy things...I've never seen one in the house before.... In my imagination, Fritz shall call his new friend 'Mini Me'.

And they'll plot together, build up their mojo, and eventually take over the house in the dark of the night webbing us in our beds.....