Saturday, September 25, 2010

Spiders and Spiders and Spiders, Oh My!

Tonight, I stumbled upon a website where people discussed black widows and how impossible they are to get rid of, how if you see one, there are probably a zillion more. I haven't seen any in the house, but I find them on the porch, in the garage, and under my planting boxes out back.

Shudder. Shudder again.

I'm now convinced I'm surrounded, that they're lurking in every corner, and, should I light my lamp in the wee hours, I'll find a small army of the monstrosities scurrying into the dark places, abandoning their march to come and get me.

I have a Stephen King brain. I should probably write horror. But I'd scare myself.

I've started half a dozen blog posts over the last few days and deleted each one. I'd get no more than a few lines in before deciding they were all lame. Like this one. And, also like this one, they all had a Stephen King horror element.

There was one about how every time I leave the house I see a dark red Jeep Wrangler driving by slowly or parked in an odd place. I even saw it cruising past in the grocery store lot the other day. Creepy. And the man in the driver's seat was looking at me. Creepier. (Or probably just sensible since I was waiting to turn into his lane.)

Photo courtesy Getty ImagesThat inspired another post about Stephen King's low men (or Can-Toi). They're ratlike creatures in human disguise. They hate humans but revere our popular culture, so they have names like Van Gogh Baez or James Cagney, and they drive outlandish classic cars. You'll know they're coming to get you when you start seeing chalk drawings of stars, unusual lost pet signs (sometimes bearing your name as the pet's name), and then those conspicuous vehicles. A red convertible Jeep Wrangler isn't that unusual, but it's eye catching, and there was that gigantic, tarp-style, professionally printed lost parakeet sign a while back... Not to mention the bright yellow 1950s Chevy that parks by my sons' school.  No chalk on the sidewalks, but there is that patch of curled-up dead earthworms that my kindergartner calls The Alphabet Worms.  It's just the same but different! Hmm.

See, that's when I decided I didn't want my blog to become a portrait of my descent into madness.  (Is it bad blog manners to insert a winking smilie? Just imagine one here.)

No writing today. I'm preoccupied with editing a twelve-page breakup scene into something a lot shorter and more manageable.

Hope you all are enjoying better autumn weather than we are. One hundred five in late September is just insulting.

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