I shrieked; my toes curled, and I dropped the lid of the dustbin – then peered in cautiously. This is the hairy surprise that awaited me:

The spider appeared to lunge towards me and I drew back aghast – then peered into the bin even more cautiously, my toes still in a tight curl:

Needless to say, I replaced the lid promptly.

Now, only a few days later I boiled the kettle to make some tea. I lifted the tin and dropped it like a shot! I shrieked again and curled my toes – another (surely it cannot be the same!) large hairy spider scuttled out from underneath. It disappeared – as I feared – yet as the kettle had nearly boiled I reached to warm the pot. I didn’t get very far:

For the spider had sought shelter in the tea pot!

Give me a snake any day!

For the curious among you: my husband simply placed the lid on the tea pot, took it outside, and emptied the spider into the lavender bush. Of course I would have been able to do that – once my toes had uncurled!


I was comfortably ensconced in an arm chair while reading in the lounge late the other evening. I was engrossed in the novel on my lap when I was quietly informed that I might like to look up. This is what I saw emerging from the folds of the curtain just above my head – I take it you are not surprised the photograph is not in full focus:

Unsurprisingly, I chose a different chair – from where I could look up and track the spider’s very slow progress across the wall:

It circumnavigated the room over the next two days before disappearing.


My eye was caught by a blob stuck behind a broken sheet of plate glass leaning against an outside wall:

I was looking at the underneath of a spider – an unusual sight, even though it was through dirty glass. By pulling the glass away from the wall, I could see the top of the spider:

It looked as if it was curling up as tightly as it could against the bitterly cold weather – I suspect it is a rain spider. Then a patch of sunlight fell upon it: