...they're cool dudes who chill in beautiful webs and keep my garden healthy and pest-free.
I'm
currently making one exception--the one who bit me on the end of my
left hand index finger yesterday. I never saw him, but I know he
resided in my curly willow plant, which I had to duck under a bit to get
to the chicken coop (it went nuts while I was away on vacation and
needs a trim). As I did, I felt some leaves brush across the top of my
head, leaving behind some dead leaves. I pulled them out of my hair--I
think that's when he got me.
I now have a painful, swollen, red,
ANGRY-looking fingertip, which requires draining every 30 minutes.
While I don't THINK it'll get worse, it's gross enough as-is. I'm on a
self-imposed regimen of Prednisone, ibuprofen and antibiotics, along
with alternating hot-cold soaks. N. was at first intrigued, then
disgusted as she was reminded how a spider bite works on
flesh--basically dissolving it into liquid so the spider can easily suck
it out for it's meal.
I'm...I'm not going to think about that aspect anymore tonight, myself.
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