Doogie the Bold Jumper

We have a new member in the Beck/Welch household.

Truer words were never spoken than when a friend advised us that, once we had our wood stove in, our house would never be clean in winter again. Ash, wood pieces, papers collected for fire starting… we regret nothing because we love gathering around that stove.

But among the things we’ve brought in was a little visitor. I first noticed “Doogie” when I thought there was dirt on the wall. As I rose to fetch a sponge to wipe it down, the spot moved. Straight up the wall and katty-corner across the ceiling to crawl along the crown trim of our 1890s home.

Live and let live. Gnats living in the logs had also invaded; let the spider build a corner web up there, and feast on the annoying invaders.

But a couple of days later, Jack said, “I’m worried about Doogie.” (We don’t know why that’s his name; it just is.) “How can he be eating without a web?”

At that moment, Doogie jumped. I don’t mean freefall, I mean “envy of athletes” jump. A leap equal to a lion in the veldt. A “send Wendy screaming into the kitchen” jump.

Doogie is a bold jumper. Literally, that’s the kind of spider he is. Little, fuzzy, big mandibles, powerful legs. They don’t spin webs; they hang out in corners and when they see what they want to eat, they go for it.

After reading up on them via Google and using a picture from my phone to compare Doogie to some images, I was really pleased at my decision not to investigate up close. While bold jumpers can actually kill and eat things almost their own size, when confronted with a very large enemy, they tend to either shrink into their corner, or come out biting. Classic fight or flight behavior. I cannot shake the image of Doogie clinging to my nose, neutralizing the perceived threat had I leaned in to get a better shot. Bold jumpers aren’t venomous, but their bites tend to irritate human skin.

So Doogie occupies the unused upper portion of our sitting room, the gnats are fewer, he looks happy from this distance, and all is well. As Jack said, “It’s nice to have a new lodger.”

Last Bad Language

Jack continues with a final look at Burns and Language –

Robert Burns as previously explained was a complex character, and we tend to see him from a modern point of view. He died aged 38 which isn’t terribly unusual for the 1700s, plus his medical treatment was completely inappropriate for what he likely suffered from (rheumatoid arthritis).

During his brief life he gained quite a reputation beyond his songs and poems. He was definitely a romantic and fathered a number of children by different women and his wife Jean Armour took on some of them. This was also not unusual then. However many of his songs show a real empathy for the situation of women in general, and despite contemplating taking a job on a plantation in Jamaica he also wrote a great song from the point of view of a newly arrived slave in Virginia. Yes – complicated!

He wrote songs and poems in support of the French and American revolutions, but ended up working for the British government as a customs officer. This led to his reputation as a drinker –

Back then if you apprehended a boat smuggling alcohol and you were in charge you could keep a share of the cargo, so it’s hardly surprising –

I think despite all his human failings he is loved and respected for a number of reasons:

  • He epitomized humanity including its failings.
  • He demonstrated empathy for all living things – women, slaves – mice and men.
  • His writings influenced important folk in Russia and in America during their significant growing pains.
  • He made people around the world curious about the Scots language and helped keep it alive.
  • He kept the notion of ‘Scottishness’ alive when it was in great danger of being subsumed into Englishness or even Britishness.
  • Almost everyone knows books and movies that borrow his words – ‘Of Mice and Men’, ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ etc.
  • Every year at midnight on December 31st all around the world people of all countries sing the song he collected and added to.