the towel spider
Late summer is when various bits of fauna start travelling about the place. Sometimes this isn’t always that welcome.
For example, yesterday morning I was not expecting the rather large thing that fell out of my post-shower towel, bounced off my shoulder and leg, and scuttled away into a dark corner. My scream manly shout of surprise didn’t draw any attention however as the decibel level in the lounge – kids + TV – already far exceeded mine. But after I got dressed and collected the rogue bit of fauna (from the dark corner – oh, the poetry!) in a plastic container I was rewarded with some healthy screams from the girls I showed it to. (Yes, I am twelve.)
It was a male miturgid spider. (un)Fortunately I could not take any decent photos of him – he was large (40mm with legs), fast, and very strong, and kept trying to beat his way out of the container. According to my trusty spider book, these guys are mainly nocturnal, and the males get lost inside the house looking for a mate. Clearly this one had crawled into the nearest dark place come daybreak, which just happened to be my towel.
I do have this old picture of the female of the species though. And the one really distinctive thing about these is the bright orange and shiny patches on their palps – those handy eating appendages up close to their mouths (spider knives and forks, as I perhaps erroneously explained to Rosa).
So now you know. For example, if you happen to be watching a scary film with the lights down, and a very large and fast spider comes racing across the floor towards your feet, know that he’s just looking for a dark place to hide, and under the couch looks like that place. Don’t squash him (as we used to) but catch him and send him on his way outside to continue his quest for some eight-legged lurrrvve.
Will de Cleene
22 February 2009, 11:58 #
You probably don’t want to know how many spiders people swallow while they are asleep. 8 a year, on average.
Alan
22 February 2009, 12:19 #
A delightful thought.
Stephen
22 February 2009, 13:23 #
Will: citation needed. I refuse to believe that, if only because I never find spider legs in my teeth in the morning.
Alan: I used to live in a house in Mt Cook where one or two of these beasties scuttled through the kitchen on a regular basis in the late evening. As a mild arachnophobe it creeped me out, especially because when it was quiet you could actually hear their little feet on the hard floor. I tried to deal with this by thinking of him as Boris the Spider, and grew to appreciate his visits. It made me sad when I accidentally stepped on him in the dark one night. Ew, crunch.
Alan
22 February 2009, 14:02 #
Ahhh, Mt Cook. Our first Wellington flat was there: a $120pw bedsit. It was there I saw my first ever cockroach; strange fungi grew under the bed; and I phoned the museum in a lather about the scorpion I thought I had found (it was actually a false scorpion).
But alas, for poor Boris. They are a little large for comfort, aren’t they.
Mr Reasonable
22 February 2009, 19:13 #
Alan, you know I keeeel these beasties with huge rolled up newspaper, 8-legged love or not. You know the story and I apologise in advance.
Alan
22 February 2009, 21:13 #
I know. I accept your apology, although I cannot accept it on behalf of the poor arachnids you’ve killed.
In the meantime though, aren’t we doing coffee this week?
Brian
25 February 2009, 09:30 #
I once owned a house in Wilton. There was one of these things living in the spare bedroom. After a number of futile attempts to catch and evict him I decided that he might as well stay.
A number of visitors spotted him making a run for it from under the sofa to the safety of his/her bedroom and commented on it. My reply was “Oh – that’s Fred – he lives in the spare bedroom”… Who me? Barking mad? Possibly…
Mary
31 March 2009, 12:42 #
Well, I had a 3.00 am encounter with one of these last night while I was feeding the baby. They look even larger in the small hours of the morning.
And would you believe it, it (or its cousin) was lying in wait for me in the nappy pile come the morning! As quickly as the sleep deprived could, I scooped it up and deposited it on the front door step to be oohed and aahed over by the youngsters.
I may not mind spiders much, but still – happier for this beastie to be pursuing the ladies OUTSIDE!
Alan
10 April 2009, 22:43 #
Awesome presence of mind, Mary. I probably would have dropped the baby in blind haste or something!