Spiders have always scared the hell out of me. Only lately have I stopped killing them. They are incredibly useful; eating nits and mosquitoes and flies and lots of them. Still. . . they give me the willies.
My favorite childhood story is about a spider, Charlotte’s Web. It is a gentle and beautiful meditation on the life-cycle, without all of the religious horseshit. At the end, when the hundreds of Charlotte’s babies are blown into the world, suspended by their silken-thread parachutes, I’d cry like a baby. My daughter, Gaby loved this story and for years, would make me read it to her at bedtime.
There is that part of me that wishes my daughter stayed 5 years old and didn’t lose her sense of wonder at Charlotte and Wilbur and their rustic life in a barn.
Now she is a half a world away , going to college in Florence. We Skype every day and I’m about to send her a box of Hot Cheetos and Skittles over there. Evidently the candy in Florence is lousy.
Maybe I’ll tuck in a copy of Charlotte’s Web.