Friday, August 25, 2006, 19:24

Little Miss Muffet

I almost dumped water on the poor thing before I saw it -- a very large black and yellow spider sitting in the middle of her web.

The dehumidifier in the basement was full, but seeing as we just got 1.5 inches of rain (!) I was wondering what could really use the water and decided to water my blue flag irises. The blue flags didn't have much for flowers this year, and I'm hoping that if they can soak up enough water this fall, they will bloom more next year.

I was ready to dump the dehumidifier into the blue flags -- and there she was. Easily one of the BIGGEST spiders I have ever seen. Her web was suspended in the middle of the blue flag irises. The blue flags tend to grow in a circle with an open space in the middle.

Apparently that was the perfect spot for the spider to spin her intricate web.

(If you'll notice on the far right of the picture, you can see that her web goes all the way across the irises.)

I raced into the house for the digital camera, realized it didn't have any pictures left on it, called Randy to find out how to take pictures off the camera, got his voice mail, left a message and was in the middle of figuring out how to take pictures off the camera when he called me back.

I got a few pictures off the camera, all but hung up on my husband, and raced back outside to get pictures of the spider.

According to this website, she is a Black and Yellow Argiope. The spiders are also known as the Black and Yellow Garden Spider. And as the Golden Orb Spider. I am thinking it is a female because it is quite large, and among spiders, the females are larger than the males.

One of the prominent things about the spider's web is a zigzag pattern in the middle. According to the article on the spider website, some scientists think they put the zigzag pattern to stabilize the web. Some think it's so birds can see it to keep them from flying through the web. And some think it is designed to attract insects. Apparently no one knows for sure what the zigzag pattern is for. I'm hoping the spider knows, though, seeing as she made it a part of her web.

Anyway, I'm glad to have had a chance to see her. And I'm glad I didn't dump water on her! She is welcome to catch all the insects and wasps that she wants in the yard.

So -- in a way -- I feel a little like Miss Muffet today. Except that I don't have any curds and whey. And I don't have a tuffet. Whatever a tuffet is. And, of course, the spider did not come to sit down beside me. She stayed in her web, waiting for breakfast to arrive. . .

LeAnn R. Ralph

Thursday, August 24, 2006, 20:17

Scared Silly

I heard them before I could see them. The trees between the house and the road prevented me from seeing much of anything until they got as far as the upper driveway.

Charlie heard them, too, and he let me know that he could hear them -- BOW-WOW-BOW-WOW-WOW-WOW

It was a good thing I heard them first, otherwise, I probably would have leaped out of my skin at Charlie's sound-off bark.

Charlie's sound-off bark is an experience all by itself. It's one of those barks that will bring you right up out of your chair -- heart racing, adrenalin pumping. The bark makes you think there is a bear in the yard. Or maybe even a grizzly bear. Or perhaps a dozen grizzly bears. He doesn't bark like that very often. Maybe only a couple of times a year. So when he does, it takes me by surprise.

I stood up from my chair by the computer by the office window. Then I saw them.

Six horses and riders -- and it was the riders who were making all the noise. Kids screaming, laughing, yelling, hollering, bouncing around in the saddle and generally carrying on.

Seeing as I have had past experience with this kind of loud screaming, yelling, laughing, hollering combined with horses, I am thinking that although the horses appeared to be well-controlled, it probably wouldn't take much to set them off and make at least one of them bolt. The two calmest horses I have ever known (my Standardbred mare, Irene, and my old quarter horse, Red) both got jittery and nervous if they had children on their backs who were screaming, yelling, hollering, laughing and bouncing around in the saddle. And both of them loved kids! They were the kind of horses you could put kids on and didn't have to worry about them taking off with the youngsters!

So, when the horses went by the driveway, I figured I'd better stay in the house instead of going outside. If I went outside, my presence would make Charlie think it was all right to run in among the horses, and I didn't want to start a general stampede.

That's when I saw the big, black dog. This dog was enormous. Twice as tall as Charlie. With hair standing up on the back of his neck. And coming into the driveway. Which Charlie didn't like in the least.

Another reason for me not to go outside.

If I went outside, Charlie would think he'd have to protect me, and he'd probably try to take on the big black dog. As it was, the two of them faced off, stiff-legged, and I'm sure they were growling at each other, too.

In time, the noisy, screaming, laughing, yelling group passed the driveway.

Their big, black dog turned and went with them.

Of course, once the whole entourage was past, Charlie figured he'd better run up and down the road, nose to the ground, to find out just exactly who that was, where'd they'd been and what they were up to.

As I stood in the yard, I could hear the laughing, yelling, screaming and hollering as it traveled around the hill.

It seemed as if I could hear the laughing, yelling, screaming and hollering for quite a while after that.

Once Charlie had settled down and was no longer running back and forth with his nose to the ground, I decided it was all right if I went inside.

I opened the door, stepped inside -- but could not shut the door.

"What's the deal with the door?" I said to Sophie, who was waiting by the door for me. Often when I go outside, Sophie waits by the window or the door until I come back.

I pushed the door open again -- and then I knew why I couldn't shut it.

My big black tom cat Rocky had been hot on my heels. He didn't quite make it inside when the door was open the first time.

When I opened the door again, Rocky -- eyes as big as fifty-cent pieces -- galloped into the house full-tilt and made it to the basement door practically in one leap (a distance of 12 feet).

"Are you scared, Rocky?" I said. "Did the horses scare you? Or the big black dog?"

Rocky looked neither to left nor to the right, and if it had been possible, he would have crawled under the door to get into the basement -- never mind that Rocky weighs at least 12 pounds and the space under the door is less than inch.

"Okay, okay," I said, opening the door for him.

Rocky, with his feet barely touching the steps, flew downstairs.

I think that's the fastest that I've ever seen Rocky move. He usually doesn't get too shook up about much of anything. Unless, of course, we're in the yard and my toe accidentally nudges the water hose and the hose moves a fraction of an inch. Then Rocky will leap three feet straight up into the air because he thinks a snake is after him. But other than that, he's a fairly sensible cat.

Later on, when I went downstairs, Rocky was curled up in Charlie's kennel on one of Charlie's blankets.

"Are getting over being scared, Rocky?" I said.

Rocky opened one eye, looked at me, and then went back to sleep.

I think it's safe to say Rocky was getting over being scared. Either that or he was completely worn out from the adrenalin rush.

I wonder how long it took the kids to calm down after their laughing, giggling, hollering, shouting, bouncing-around ride for the afternoon?

LeAnn R. Ralph