A Noble Guest

 So I've long had suspicions about a couple of 8 legged guests I've seen around my flat, but it was only the other day that it suddenly occurred to me that I could google lens them to find out if I was right.

So I photographed the chap who has taken up residence in my bathroom, and quickly confirmed that my hypothesis was indeed correct.

Steodata Nobilis, the noble false widow spider. 

I'm sure that once upon a time, I would have gone half mad with panic and instituted a campaign of "KILL IT WITH FIRE", for after all, maybe as recently as ten years ago, these spiders were seen as a terrifying plague brought to our shores by climate change. Schools were closed down. People sprayed their garden sheds with agent orange and anything small with 8 legs met a sticky end under size ten Doc Martens. 

Nowadays, I'm like - "gosh, that's interesting, he's doing no harm, I'll let him be." 

A state of affairs that will probably last only as long as it doesn't land on my nose on a gossamer thread while I'm brushing my teeth. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 01.03.23

False Widow Falsehoods

For anyone looking at the red-top media and seeing worrying pictures of swollen legs and pustulant looking sores, with lurid claims about savage, leaping false widow spiders suddenly descending upon this country like illegal immigrants looking to feed of the benefit system of your tender flesh, I advise you to read this;

The truth about False Widows

…and stop panicking.

I know most people, myself included, are not massively keen on spiders; my bath this autumn has proved a fairly inviting home for some of the largest domestic house spiders I’ve ever seen, and only dirt on my body an inch thick has finally persuaded me to wield an old Tupperware sandwich box and a copy of Bizarre magazine to exit them through the bathroom window. 

I am always very proud of myself whenever I do this.

But you see there’s no need to go genociding (arachno-ciding?) everything with 8 legs in your immediate vicinity; the chances of you or your family coming to any harm at the hands of a false widow spider are so miniscule as to be virtually zero. Chances are you are infinitely more likely to break your leg falling off the wobbly kitchen chair you stood on in order to batter a sleepy spider in the corner of the ceiling with your Daily Mail.

Stop reading tabloid scare stories, and have a nice cup of tea instead.

Copyright cream crackered nature 28/10/2013

A harvestman?