Please Don't Play With The Spider

I hate spiders.
Please don't preach to me about how they are such wonderful little creatures; how the planet would be overrun with mosquitoes and flies and world terror organizations were it not for these little eco-friendly eight legged wonders.
I hate them.
I visited my brother in Seattle last week and realized just how much these little creatures give me the heeby-jeebies. Evidently, Seattle is the spider capital of the world. OK, maybe that is not exactly true, but I did see spiders EVERYWHERE. Most were small, but a few were big enough to wear saddles and give rides to small children. My brother was kind enough to walk in front of me wherever we went doing karate arm chops in the air to make sure that I didn't walk into a web. He doesn't like spiders either, but I think he was worried that if I went nose to nose with a big bad wolf spider it would ruin my trip. It totally would have...in a really mellow-dramatic, flailing, cry-baby kind of way. Spiders bring out the terrible two year old in me in a way that is embarrassing, but involuntary.

Every morning, my brother and I drove a few miles to a trail along the Summamish river in a town called Bothel for our morning run. (Side note: Did the city founders realize that the town name is just one "r" away from being completely inappropriate?) To get to my brother's SUV, I had to walk along a slope by his house that he called "spider heaven."  I really don't think the words "spider" and "heaven" belong together, but I knew exactly what he meant. The slope happened to be on my side of the SUV (the passenger side) so he would walk me to the door swinging his arms to cut through any webs. I followed behind him giggling nervously, walking Quasimodo style. Once inside the car, I checked myself for spiders in the glow of the interior car light and started breathing again. One morning as we headed to the trail, he told me how he was driving a few days earlier, and a spider had swung down from the visor right in front of him and he had to remain calm and stay on the road even though the sucker was big enough to take the wheel with one leg and change the radio station with another. The hairs on the back of my neck bristled at the thought. If that had been me, I would have been found lying in a muddy rain ditch off the side of the road somewhere mouthing the words, "Get it off me" over and over. Who knows where they would have found the SUV.

Some of you may think I am exaggerating about the spiders of Seattle. Maybe you used to live there or are living there now and say, "What? It's not that bad!" I'm guessing you probably say the same thing about the Seattle weather, so I am going to take your words with a grain of salt. All I know is that I saw spiders everywhere. There was one hanging from my brother's deck. One downstairs in the bedroom. There was one on the back wall. I saw so many in trees and bushes, nestled next to flower pots and under benches that I felt as though I was being watched. Along the driveway leading up to my brother's house there was a big one perched in between two bricks like a beady eyed rock climber. My little niece Anna, who is four, was practicing riding her new bike when she pointed it out to me. "Look Aunt Hope! There is a spider right there!" I was already inside by the time she got to the word "Aunt." Sorry Anna. You're going to have to learn to ride your bike without training wheels on your own.

One day, I went with my brother and his family to a park near their house. It was a gorgeous park - typical Seattle - green expansive lawn, blooming pink rhododendrons hedges, pine trees looming tall, birds chirping, and of course, gray rain clouds overhead with just a bit of blue sky poking out way off in the distance (probably over Oregon somewhere). I was in the playground helping my niece climb a rock wall when a boy ran by with something cupped in his hand. He looked to be about nine years old and was very excited about his new toy. I hoped it was a frog or a butterfly, heck, even a scorpion, but nope, you guessed it--it was spider. THE KID WAS PLAYING WITH A SPIDER!! He ran to the top of the slide with the spider in his closed fist, leaned out over the edge, and opened his hand. The spider dropped out and began to lower itself toward the sand. He used his other hand to pull the web and bring the spider back up. Then he would let the spider drop again, pull it back up, over and over, like a  Yo-yo. I watched in horror from the park bench I had sprinted to at the edge of the playground. Do they not have Legos in Seattle?! Baseballs?? Tonka trucks?!? I watched as he continued playing with the spider big enough to be seen from a distance. I must have looked like I swallowed vinegar and my neck was sweaty despite the cool breeze and overcast skies. Anna was still standing with one hand on the rock wall looking at me with wide eyes. I waved. Sorry Anna.You're going to have to learn how to rock climb on your own. The boy slid down the slide with a closed fist and then ran up to a girl his age near the monkey bars. Even though I couldn't hear what they were saying, I knew how this conversation was going to go.

Little Boy: Hey Brittany! You wanna see what I have in my hand?
Me (from a distance): Don't do it Brittany! Don't do it!!
Brittany: Sure.
She takes a small step back.
Me: Brittany! NO! Trust your instincts! Run away! NOW!!!!
Boy opens hand.
Brittany: EEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!
As Brittany's scream trailed off into the damp afternoon air, the little boy ran off with a 'gotcha' grin to see who else he could traumatize. I noticed my brother walking across the park in my direction. I ran up to meet him and said, "Did you see that little boy playing with a spider??! A SPIDER!! He was using it like a YoYo?! Oh my gosh!" I crossed my arms and shivered.
He smiled and said, "Yeah, I saw him. He came up to me and I told him to go show his new toy to the woman dressed in all black."
I looked down. I had on black pants, black gloves and my black jacket was zipped all the way up over my maroon T-shirt. I socked my brother in the arm and laughed through my clinched, chattering teeth. We gathered up the kids and walked to the car. To get everyone to the park, we had to take two separate cars, so he couldn't karate chop my route to the car. I had to do it myself. I swung my arms in front me, hoping I wouldn't feel a web. I was close to my car door when I chopped through a web over my head and stopped in my tracks. Had I just cut the line of the biggest spider in the Northwest and now it was falling from the pine trees overhead to drop inside the back collar of my jacket? I was sure of it. I opened the car door and leaped inside.
God, get me back to California. I'll never complain about the ants again. I promise.


Hope A. Horner, 2014
http://www.HopeHorner.com
Follow on Twitter at http:/www.twitter.com/HopeNote
Feel free to forward and share.
For offline printing or publishing, contact author at hopeahorner@gmail.com

Slow Down!

Always on the move. 
Motivated. 
Busy. 
Determined. 
Can't relax. 
Can't slow down. 
This is the way a friend of mine described herself.
So what DO you slow down for? I asked.
She seemed a little confused by my question, but thought about it for a minute and then responded:

Campfires...
The ocean...
Vacation...

It made me think.
What do I slow down for?
If you know me, I am a person on the move. Like my Dad, I am always "up to something" and will probably die in motion. Thankfully, he hasn't died. Not even close. He is definitely still in motion--still teaching, leading, singing, hiking, writing, reading and doing all the things he has always done, only he's in his 70's, has diabetes, a bad heart and just got out of the hospital for throwing out his back. How did he throw out his back you ask? Yeah, you guessed it--in motion. Golfing. At least he wasn't ski-jumping.

Anyway, here are a few things I slow down for:
To connect with people I like/love
To write
To read
To see the sunrise/sunset/ocean
To pray
To laugh
To pet my dog (or yours!)

Slow down because life is short.
The older I get the shorter life feels.When I was a child, life seemed stretched out before me in a endless sea of soccer games, school assignments, first dates, college classes and beyond...I'm in my forties now and I wonder where did all that time go?! Yes, life is short! But does that make me feel like rushing or slowing down?

Life is short...

WOW! I better get moving! 

There's not enough time for everything! Places to go! People to meet!

OR...

Life is short. 

WOW! I better slow down!

I need to make time for what and who is really important.

Interesting how that little life axiom can work either way.

I think you can tell a lot about a person by what, who--they slow down for. You can tell what/who they treasure, value and think is important. If someone watched what I slowed down for today what would they say? Would I be proud or ashamed? Probably a little of both. So much of what or who needs my "slow down time" gets pushed aside by the URGENT. Work has a way of being a priority whether I want it to be or not. Everything seems to be a "rush job." Last minute meetings and changes come up constantly. Then, there are the people who demand my time whether I have it to give or not. However, in the end, despite a full inbox, interruptions and back-to-back meetings, it is my responsibility to "make time" for what is truly important. I'll admit, it is difficult for me to lift my led foot off the accelerator and apply the brakes. I am fighting my genes, remember?

I have a hat that says, "Life is Good." It really is! I feel so blessed and have so many reasons to slow down. The other day, I slowed down at work to really connect with people, listen to them, and it was one of the best days I'd had in a long time. I learned that one of my co-workers has an incredible amount of heart and courage. Another was frustrated and needed support. Someone else was feeling more positive about her current situation, but cautious. A young staff member of mine was anxious about a job prospect and needed my help. One of my co-workers fished for a compliment so I gave her one. She smiled like I had just handed her gift. I had. I had given her the gift of "slowing down"--a gift that showed her she is important to me. And she is.
I need to do that more. Slow down.
I don't want to be on a what feels like a run-a-way bus barreling through life, peeling out around corners, screeching through stop signs, searching for the emergency turn-out while yelling, "No brakes! No brakes!"
Slow me down, God. Put me on the scenic tour bus--the one that slows down to stop for the important stuff like special people, breathtaking views...oh, and lunch.


Hope A. Horner, 2014
Follow on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/HopeNote
Feel free to forward, post or share!
Contact author on gmail at hopeh1122