I think I may have killed Buddha, or that damn hairy spider deserved it

-
Well the last few weeks, OK let’s just say the whole damn month has been a bit stressful and exhausting. Today is July something, I don't really remember when June happened, I wish I could say it was the alcohol or something but it’s just good old fashioned age and apathy.

 Oh, it started out well enough, then the heat came. Lord love the GA summers. The repairs on the house were finally complete, after that damn tree fell through the roof and ended up in the dinning room, but the amount of crap they left in our front yard was ridiculous. Not only were the neighbors asking us when we were going to remove the mountain of stuff, but the contractors blocked our driveway, so I couldn't get in the garage, yea, more places to get hot.


I was told multiple times they would come out and clean it all up and they kept making excuses.  We finally decided not to pay them until they cleaned up the damn mess.  Finally one day I went out to move it off the damn driveway, myself, so I could get my truck in the garage. I think I hurt my back (or I'm just out of shape and old, naw couldn't be that).  I was panting like an old woman giving birth when out of nowhere a giant spider comes walking up the driveway, really, right in the middle of the driveway, like he owned the place and was coming home after a hard day of building webs in old ladies hair and laying eggs in baby's ears.  He just walked right up to me like he had something important to say.  Now if you know me, you know I have a thing about spiders. I wouldn't say it’s a phobia but more a very healthy respect, where I turn into a 4 year old girl and scream like a banshee, kind of healthy respect. 

 So I'm sitting on a pile of wood, dripping sweat like a faucet, from exhaustion or fear, I'm not sure, and I'm yelling at this eight legged, eight eyed hairy monster from a B-movie, to back the hell off and go take down a zebra or something and he just keeps coming at me.  What do I look like a 200 pound house fly?  I tried shooing him away, I assumed it was a him, it was big, really big and hairy, so it was a he as far as I'm concerned, besides a she spider would have be much more reasonable.  He wouldn't listen, as most things do not when it comes to the wisdom and council I radiate, so I killed him.  With a rather load wet squishy popping sound he was off to spider heaven.  What would that be like, dark, webby and nothing but trapped fly’s as far as your eight eyes could see, uuuugggghhhh, all I can here is, "HELP ME" in a tiny squeaky voice, (jeeze, I watch to many horror movies).

 So after the murder of most likely Buddha’s newest incarnation, I moved everything out of the way in gloves long pants and shirt, just in case he had friends who were looking for a little arachnid pay back.  

 Yea, well, now that I’ve killed Buddha, I guess that’s it for blessings.

Comments

  1. Amy G.July 11, 2011

    The image of Buddha as a spider is striking. I can totally see this episode unfolding and it made me giggle. Thanks for sharing.

    For other thoughts on why spiders are scary, check out Hyperbole and a Half: Spiders are Scary - It's Okay to Be Afraid of Them at
    http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/03/spiders-are-scary-its-okay-to-be-afraid.html

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

S.Dali

-
Image
Another of the postcard series, I wanted a simple black and white drawing of a face.  I was reading an article on Dali and here it is.                                       I think I may have captured the uniqueness of the man.  I did make some crazy eyes :-)    I particularly like the way I did the hair.  It has alot of volume and fullness.  Not sure what the background is about.  I got into the pattern and just let it happen. I want to do more of these type drawings. I used to hate the way I draw but I've grown to enjoy the process and how my drawings grow change and turn out.
Read more

Ode to Keely poem/postcard

-
Image
This is one of my "Post card a day" series. I gave myself one hour each day to create a postcard and mail them out the next day. I like the idea of someone getting a fun one of a kind piece of art in the mail.   This poem is a goofy little thing I wrote about a dear friend and a funny little nick-name I gave the place she lives.  I turned it into a postcard and sent it to her.  A treat, for her, for sure. The Culdesac of Apathy "Living in a cold dry land, her heart warm with possibilities, the chooshy overstuffed cramped with furry contentment, making marks on a typed torn page, drawing a connection to the unknown future seen through an amber visor with a woody after taste, all to clear the careful step by step avoidance of icey patches on the the pavement outside a door of fearful steps to a warm bright day."
Read more

Southern Funerals do not disappoint.

-
Part 1: Where we try to understand the southern family dynamic and my need to run like hell when I hear the phone ring. Years ago, after I had finally moved out of my parent’s house, I received many phone calls from my mother. She was always checking in on me, as mothers do. She was checking to see if I was eating right, getting enough sleep and washing my clothes correctly (she was a bit of a Nazi when it came to doing laundry, but that is another story). Unfortunately there came a time where the majority of the calls were bad news. An Aunt had a stroke, an Uncle has died, or a cousin has jumped off a bridge and killed herself, yes that one is true. I got to the point where I told her to stop calling me, if all she was going to give me is bad news. So she got my father to call me. My dad’s not a big talker, so usually the only time I talk to him, is when my mom shoves the phone in his face to say hi to me. This time he called me, which should have been a red flag but I’m slow up...
Read more