La Ville de l’Araignée (Spider Town)
The passing of our second weekend in France finds us a bit more settled domestically. Most critically, we have delivered a significant blow to the spider population in the house. We had a rather diverse spider community ranging from small, discrete spiders to large, get-out-of-my-way spiders. The spiders in our dining room alone probably outnumbered the human inhabitants in the entire 17-apartment house. Their only rivals on the property, population-wise, seem to be the pigeons, but we won’t go there again.
The spiders don’t bring the problems that the pigeons generate, but at least some of them seem to be rather prolific cobweb creators. When you have 12 foot ceilings in an apartment that hasn’t been lived in for a few weeks, spiders can generate some serious cobweb action.
Along with the 12-foot ceilings came some very heavy 12-foot draperies (think haunted house). I experienced irritating allergy problems when we first arrived, so I asked Mr. Boudoli, the caretaker, to remove the drapes, which for me were simply dust depositories. I’m sure this raised some eyebrows, but since we are strangers here, we may as well be strange.
While I knew that the drapes were loaded with dust, I was surprised to find that they also hid a very significant spider population and, most disturbingly, spider eggs. There was an entire ecosystem living in and behind those drapes. The drapes could best be described as La Ville de l’Araignée, Spider Town.
Even with the removal of the drapes we had a pretty lively spider community. Now, I am not really a spider-killer at heart, and I have often lived harmoniously with spiders. In fact, Marty and I very much enjoyed the little spider family that hatched in our garage in Durham. In this case, however, remnants of La Ville de l’Araignée were thriving and expanding beyond my tolerance levels.
It is with some reluctance that I admit that I likely finished off almost all of the remaining spiders with our newly-purchased vacuum. Marty, to his credit, begged to save the lives of the impressively large spiders that lived in our bathroom window (in their impressively large webs). I had the vacuum in hand, however, and just couldn’t stop myself.
I’m sure that there will be some spiders that come back to weave their webs and capture more dust. Some I will probably let live and some will undoubtedly be vacuum victims. There is a certain randomness to choosing which will live and which will die. The power will no doubt be corrupting.
The removal of the drapes has also brought with it the unanticipated benefit of a great deal more light entering the house. Of course, without the drapes, we are now like fish in an aquarium, so our neighbors can watch the Americans go about their business. Fortunately, we’re not that interesting, except perhaps when Marty exposes himself. But this is France, so we assume even that is not interesting.
During the spider-cide we also learned that the inexpensive vacuum we purchased is like an American vacuum on steroids. This turbo-vacuum, in addition to removing spiders, can also remove wallpaper. Oops.
The spiders don’t bring the problems that the pigeons generate, but at least some of them seem to be rather prolific cobweb creators. When you have 12 foot ceilings in an apartment that hasn’t been lived in for a few weeks, spiders can generate some serious cobweb action.
Along with the 12-foot ceilings came some very heavy 12-foot draperies (think haunted house). I experienced irritating allergy problems when we first arrived, so I asked Mr. Boudoli, the caretaker, to remove the drapes, which for me were simply dust depositories. I’m sure this raised some eyebrows, but since we are strangers here, we may as well be strange.
While I knew that the drapes were loaded with dust, I was surprised to find that they also hid a very significant spider population and, most disturbingly, spider eggs. There was an entire ecosystem living in and behind those drapes. The drapes could best be described as La Ville de l’Araignée, Spider Town.
Even with the removal of the drapes we had a pretty lively spider community. Now, I am not really a spider-killer at heart, and I have often lived harmoniously with spiders. In fact, Marty and I very much enjoyed the little spider family that hatched in our garage in Durham. In this case, however, remnants of La Ville de l’Araignée were thriving and expanding beyond my tolerance levels.
It is with some reluctance that I admit that I likely finished off almost all of the remaining spiders with our newly-purchased vacuum. Marty, to his credit, begged to save the lives of the impressively large spiders that lived in our bathroom window (in their impressively large webs). I had the vacuum in hand, however, and just couldn’t stop myself.
I’m sure that there will be some spiders that come back to weave their webs and capture more dust. Some I will probably let live and some will undoubtedly be vacuum victims. There is a certain randomness to choosing which will live and which will die. The power will no doubt be corrupting.
The removal of the drapes has also brought with it the unanticipated benefit of a great deal more light entering the house. Of course, without the drapes, we are now like fish in an aquarium, so our neighbors can watch the Americans go about their business. Fortunately, we’re not that interesting, except perhaps when Marty exposes himself. But this is France, so we assume even that is not interesting.
During the spider-cide we also learned that the inexpensive vacuum we purchased is like an American vacuum on steroids. This turbo-vacuum, in addition to removing spiders, can also remove wallpaper. Oops.
posted by Nancy at 9:31 AM
1 Comments:
You had better be careful with the steroids that the vacuum cleaner is on. The officials might ban it (vacuum cleaner) for 1 year. That would be a trying time for you. Say hi to Mr. Marty.
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