Earthquakes, Hurricanes and Poisonous Arachnids

It hasn't been a normal week. It started with my husband leaving on Saturday for a two week training jaunt in Key West. Goodbyes were said, tears were shed and then the onslaught began. Not in a completely awful way, but just a not-so-normal, exciting but somewhat stressful sort of way. This is, of course, thoroughly expected however, since the absence of a husband usually brings with it difficulties best handled by the husband.


So, on Tuesday, when Virginia Beach and much of the East Coast was rattled with an earthquake measuring 5.8 on the Richter scale, I was not surprised. I was pretty pshyched actually. I have never experienced an actual earthquake. Though this one was a bit on the sorry side and not much to write home about, it was, nonetheless, an actual earthquake.


It was that same day that I also began hearing rumors that hurricane Irene was barreling towards the east coast with a vengeance as if we had just run off with her first born. 


With this news also came the realization that I would have to single-handedly hook up and drive our wheeled home far enough inland to protect it from the unprovoked wrath of the impending watery Fraulein. Luckily, after some discussion my father-in-law offered to come help me so I will not be alone in this venture as first presumed. Which is probably a good thing since me trying to drive a truck pulling a 34' fifth wheel camper may actually inflict more damage on Virginia Beach than Irene.


Yesterday, I began preparations for the unexpected relocation. It involved clearing out the area beneath the trailer, loading up bikes and outside toys for the storage unit, stacking firewood, rolling in awnings, and brushing away debris. 


I also needed to fill the fresh water tank in the trailer. I went around to the valve on the back side and began the process. As I stood there holding the water hose into the uncapped fresh water tank, I noticed something. A large spider web grossly stretched across the side of the trailer and its slide-out. Leaves, twigs and insects had been snared and tangled into the vicious looking death trap only inches away from my leg. Then I saw her. Her black sleek body. Eight shiny legs resting elegantly on her woven throne. The brilliant crimson hourglass gracing her back as if a prideful warning to allow her victims a head start. The Black Widow.


She was probably the size of my hand, at least. Poison dripping from her venomous fangs as she watched me, smirking. It was that very second - that second of realization - that Caleb, who was playing beside me with a stick, decided to attack the monstrous web. 


An image of horror flashed before my eyes that involved the hideous beast leaping away from my three year old's thrashing and directly on to my face, where it would inevitably suck out all of my fluids. Other mental versions of the image involved her sprouting massive wings and carrying some sort of battle ax while screaming something unintelligible in Russian. 


I reacted accordingly, grabbing Caleb's stick and warning him off with a lot of hollering and waving. However, this caused the water hose to work its way out of the fresh water tank and spray the the side of the trailer and the spider's web. Water erupted violently as I tried to force the hose back into the tank. I held Caleb with my other hand, my eyes glued to the villainous creature as it escaped to the underbelly of the trailer for safety.


I decided I was finished with outside work for the day and went inside to try and resume normal heart function. 


That evening our friend, Wallace, came over to help me move stuff to storage and put the fifth wheel hitch in the truck bed. I told him of the silky black villain that had decided to attach its home to my dwelling, and he offered to take a look. 


With flashlight in hand, he ripped away the spider's web and crept into its lair, beneath the slide-out. The flashlight scanned the darkness, illuminating the dusty bowels of the trailer. There she sat guarded only by the blackness now dissipated with the brilliant beams of justice and handheld illuminating devices. 


Granted, it was smaller than I had remembered it being. About the size of a quarter... give or take.  And then Wallace smashed it with a rolled up magazine.


So, as you can clearly see, nature, having witnessed the departure of my husband, has decided to unleash all kinds of excitement. Not really sure why, but it makes me pretty thankful for good friends and family. Also, cell phones.