Arachnophobiblia?

As I come from a Northern European country, my experience of scary creepy crawly things is fairly limited: Margaret Thatcher, mostly. But I had a baptism of fire (actually fire ants) when I first arrived in the US. I discovered not only fire ants but banana spiders and other six- and eight-legged critters I never was able to put a name to, because they didn’t exist in the Old World. Suffice it to say that I’m a lot more nervous about these things now that I live here permanently–and since I learned that Tennessee, which is on our bookstore’s western flank, is home to almost every kind of poisonous spider known to humanity.

 

So when I was suckered into upgrading our bookstore’s basement (see my previous post) so we could put “another few bookshelves” down there, I was aware that there were a few straggly cobwebs. It seemed likely that there might even be an occasional confrontation, but it wasn’t until I began to replace the windows that things got serious.

As I installed each new window frame, I sprayed expanding foam into the crevices. After finishing the first two, I went up into the house to have my lunch. On my return, I was confronted with a whole herd of spindly legged spiders with swollen white joints and bodies hanging in the webs.

 

These things looked seriously scary, like evil snowflakes, but they weren’t moving. My assumption was that the foam had driven them out of their hiding places and perhaps given them a rather nasty death. But Wendy, being an academic, decided that ‘crowd sourcing’ on FaceBook would give us a more definitive answer.

 

Our neighbor and bookstore cleaner extraordinaire, Heather (while on an excursion in Asheville, even) found a match to the picture I’d posted of our spider. Lo and behold – it was officially named a Cellar Spider, and the white stuff was a fungal infection! I’m kind of sorry for them, having just got over a nasty cough myself, but don’t feel as guilty as when I thought I’d zapped them with the foam.

Now I wonder, did they catch this infection all at once or were they born with it inside them and it gradually developed? They are different sizes and yet they all have it; here’s what appears to be the tribal elder –

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I should finally say that I’m generally amenable to spiders (as long as they’re not right in my face) as I know they keep less desirable beasties under control. However, Wendy, normally a circle of lifer and a gentle Quakerish soul, is terrified of spiders and has now decided the basement bookstore elements are mine to supervise. I feel more work coming on….

Jack guest blogs on retirement

When I retired from my college professor career in 2002 I imagined a gentler and more relaxed way of life, maybe catching up on some reading and re-indulging in hobbies I hadn’t had time for in a while. Certainly, to begin with things seemed to be going in that direction, despite continuing involvement in education and training as a consultant and even visiting such romantic destinations as Vietnam and Romania in that capacity.

When Wendy and I first moved permanently to the US things continued in that fairly leisurely way. Everything changed, however, when we moved to Big Stone Gap and opened the bookstore! Ah- the bookstore!!

Most folk probably think that opening and running a bookstore is a dream come true and that is true to some extent – but for me there is a darker side. As the shop became established and our stock expanded so did the need to find space and fill the space with bookshelves. For the last few years I’ve fondly imagined that I’ve made my last set of bookshelves, but no, Wendy (my boss) somehow manages to continue to find ever more obscure corners just crying out for another lot.

And I don’t help myself, either. Just a few days ago I was down in our basement (currently only accessible from outside in the back yard) and realized that there was a covered over internal staircase. EUREKA! Well – ‘maybes aye and maybes naw’ (as we say in Scotland) – the trouble is that, although half the basement is a decent height, there’s only brick and concrete walls and no ceilings. There’s only very minimal lighting and no power outlets, and the hidden stairwell is full of later added cables and water pipes to the washing machine that’s going to have to find a new home.basement stair

 

 

 

 

 

Then there’s shelving all these pesky books that people will insist on bringing in – but hey, that’s another story – – –

What does all this add up to? As an old colleague of mine once said to me when I asked how he was enjoying retirement – “Jack – it was made for a younger man than me!”