They say you can never go Home...

Soldiers of Sparta were allowed to return home after lost battles, only if carried dead upon their shields. I'm convinced this is a more practical and time-saving way to go about it.

Monday, June 14, 2004

Primordial Paradise

Even having lived here some eight-odd years ago, I can recall nothing of the insects of this land, except the red ants, whose homes I would routinely mow over whilst doing the yardwork.

When I announced I’d be leaving for Florida, there were the expected twenty-odd jokes about The Damn Bugs. Cockroaches so big, they defy the phylum to which they’ve been relegated, and due to their heinous proportions have been named, euphemistically, Palmetto bugs, so as not to scare off the would-be settlers of this place. “Palmetto” sounds like some line of rattan furniture at Pier One. We’re talking BUGS that could strap your refrigerator on its back, and run off with it during the night, people.

Everyone is lousy w/ stories about their experiences w/ bugs in FL. A very dear friend of mine sends me photographic evidence of her Kills, grainy polaroids with a ruler or some other ad-hoc reference marker next to the Carcass, to illustrate the dramatic proportions. That’s all very funny and whatnot, but one cannot grasp the gravid nature of the situation, faced even with all this anecdotal evidence.

But clearly, I suffer from short-term memory loss.

This evening, after returning from Harry Potter, I set about calming down the Nervous Beagle while my brother makes a frozen pizza and settles in with Instant Migrane™ (AOL Instant Messenger). Shortly thereafter, I hear him cuss several Shits and an avowal that He Can’t Believe It You Have Got To Be Kidding Me. He calls me into the bathroom, and tells me that there is a spider in there.

I gingerly part the shower curtain, to reveal the offending arachnid.

I encounter the largest spider I have seen outside of a laboratory, to date. It was hairy, it was the size of my fist. I could hear it gnashing its chelicera. You could have put a saddle on this bastard, and ridden it around the Grand Canyon, like a pack animal.