There’s This Spider, See …

She’s been living in my bathroom for about three weeks now. I think that’s 4,628 in spider weeks.

I never see her until I get in the shower. Then she walks across the ceiling and waves at me. I kid you not. Every day.

Of course I wave back, usually getting shampoo in my eyes which makes her laugh. It’s this thing we do.

She’s really quite amazing and not the least bit scary.

I was going to call her Mommy Long Legs, but it seemed rude to presume. Instead, I call her Cyd Charisse.

My Cyd Charisse doesn’t dance backwards in high heels, but she does walk upside down which I bet you can’t do. Plus, she has terrific gams.

After I rub the shampoo from my eyes, I watch her. She moves so elegantly, gliding and hovering on the ceiling. She’s a tad longer than an inch, covered with velvety henna hairs.

Oscar S. Cisneros says …

“Poor spider – its grace and delicacy lost on a society too brutish to see its eight-legged beauty.”

Don Tidwell had a visiting bathroom spider too …

“He crawled around his universe
Inspecting every tile,
Then climbed upon his special perch
To watch me for awhile.”

And Walt Whitman loved a nice quiet spider …
“A noiseless, patient spider,
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them–ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,–seeking the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d–till the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.”

I recited the Whitman poem to Cyd Charisse, but just to be clear, I changed the ending.

“Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.
But if you drop into my hair, you’ll fling into the bowl.”

It’s not great poetry, but she understood.

Do you like spiders? Ever have one move in with you?

12 thoughts on “There’s This Spider, See …”

  1. Last year, my friend Dani had a spider living outside her door. His name was Fernando. Dani had just gotten back from Spain and still occasionally started speaking in Spanish halfway through a conversation. But every time we went to her apartment, she would look up and say, ‘Que pasa, Fernando?’ And he would wave. Which in spider language I took to be a thumbs-up. He was a very happy spider. He never gave a thumbs-down.

  2. Jessie, I believe Cyd Charisse told me she had an immigrant cousin named Fernando. And like Dani, I often communicate with my arachnid pal. I, however, use the universal language of interpretive dance.

  3. One spider? Do they not like Colorado? Most of them have immgrated to California – there is a new spider everyday in my shower – I know this because everyday the current spider appears to end up smushed – not sure how. Then there’s the spiders in the kids room that used to keep them up at night but now luckily they’re teenagers and sleep forever and don’t notice. My poem (p.s. I hate poems because I’m so bad at them).

    Spiders, spiders, everywhere.
    My home is your breeding ground.
    My cat should probably eat you.
    Long legs, short legs, brown legs, black legs.
    Becky’s house is warm and inviting – please go stay with her awhile.

  4. Wait one second, Lana! I only want TALENTED spiders like Cyd Charisse here in Colorado. California spiders seem lame in every sense of the word.

    You can keep them there.

  5. Thanks! I think most of us stay just far enough away so we don’t find out if we’re allergic.

    My son just told me there’s another spider in the basement who waved at him too. My, aren’t Colorado spiders friendly?!

  6. I have a spider just like Cyd Charisse, he’s called Albert, and lives in a hole right beside my bathroom window and when I take a bath he always comes out (every single time) I’ve seen him eat, drink water, everythin. It’s amazing

    1. Well, not to quibble, Samantha, but if your spider is named Albert, then he’s not *just* like Cyd Charisse. *winky face* I’m also reminded of a spider my dad thought of as his pet. Neither one of them performed appropriate housekeeping duties, so the web was large, covering the entire corner of his picture window. Most folks were horrified, but I understood. Give ‘ol Albert a wave for me. And for my dad.

  7. I too am in California. I get a variety of spiders. A different one about once a week. And no, I don’t know where the others go. I usually have a bathroom spider, a bedroom spider and one for the exercise room. We are just like a spider hotel!

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