I caught up on some richly deserved sleep, in the night time heat of my bedroom. Not hot through wild abandoned passion you understand, just still hot muggy air. The window is very large and attracts the daytime sun like a greenhouse.
Nevertheless I was snoring through the heat and awoke to a vague thrashing and turning. So used to my snoring being the answer to all my disturbed sleep, as Darling Daughter will verify and tell you she never ever intends to sleep anywhere near me again, I nearly ignored the incident and return to slumber. Alas I could feel a scritchy something on my neck and brushed my half asleep hand across my neck.
Suddenly I jumped up in sheer terror and screamed.
I screamed very loudly.
A big black Wolf spider had been walking over my neck!!!!!!
He whooshed through the air and landed on a chair then....well I had no idea where I brushed him to and was convinced as I stood up on my sofa trying to locate my sandals that he had fallen onto the blanket resting on a pile of newly washed and ironed clothes on the chair next to my bed......
(oh why aren't I a perfect homemaker?? All those clothes would have been put away before bedtime...)
I stood, barefoot, on the sofa, clutching at my flimsy nightdress hem. Why, I have no idea.
With my heart pushing its way out of my chest I was trying to think if it had been a dream. My eyes , my neck and the possible heart attack told me otherwise
Armed with rubber gloves and a long stick (what on earth I thought that would do I have no idea) I pushed all the sheets, duvet and decorative pillows and blankets off the bed onto the floor in a huge mountain. It did occur to me briefly that it looked like a creation more suitable in the Tate gallery than my bedroom. Where is my blinking camera when I need it. Oh yes I remember.
I forage in the cupboard in the hall and search for my beautiful brown suede handbag I bought in Venice, Italy several years back. A Bruno Magli, simply fabulous. I stroke it and relive the memories then remember I am searching for my camera.
Got it. I take it out and jump back up onto the sofa to get what I feel is the best angle of my Tracy Emin creation and 'click'. Drat. 'Click' again
Oh fudgicles. The battery is dead..... Ah I remember now, that's why it was in my bag so I would remember to plug the battery on recharge....
I get down from the sofa and try to remember why I was doing all this....
I get back up on the sofa......
Mr Wolf is nowhere to be seen. Unsure of the point of it I poke the very long stick in and at random places. It seems to yield no reward.
I pick up the sofa cushions and bash them. They are zipped tight and Mr Wolf does not drop out. I pick up a clean sheet from the airing cupboard and shake it as though it was in an earthquake. I clamber onto the sofa once more and cover myself in the sheet.
I want to leave the place and stay in a hotel. I manage to tell myself that is totally unreasonable and unrealistic. I listen to myself and stay put.
Dawn arrives and I am still upright on the sofa, awake. I make my way to the bathroom.
I look like a Devil possessed serial killer.......
I have no choice but to clear up and make the bed and surrounding areas. By midday all cupboards are emptied, and 'strategically' placed all over the room. Mr Wolf is nowhere to be found. Typical. How fickle! If he wanted to protest about my snoring he should face me now!!
I find I can not move or face anymore of this and leave. Leave the house and go out.
I know I will have to return. Maybe.... Possibly......