freckles_and_doubt: (Default)
[personal profile] freckles_and_doubt
At home sick today, the sinus headache having got to the well-known and counterproductive point where it laughs at painkillers and causes me to not actually be able to see straight. A quiet day mostly horizontal, or bumping gently into things when cautiously vertical, seems to have seen it off. Mostly. Glandular stuff still gnawing at my neck. Also watched about five episodes of Castle, which continues cute, although Adrian Pasdar is inspiring me with a strong desire to kick him. Given that it was ungodly and stinking hot today, it's something of a relief not to have had to leave the house. I also seem to have been making serious strides in the not-feeling-guilty-for-taking-a-sick-day stakes: (a) it's more productive in the long run to actually rest, it just lingers for longer if I don't, and (b) after the stresses of the last month, I've bloody well earned it in more ways than one. Dammit.

Today's little piece of futility was to discover, on wandering out into the back courtyard in a lucid moment, that a misguided spider had, overnight, spun an elaborate and beautiful web across the door to the laundry shed. This is a terrible photo, my head was muzzy and the sun is all wrong, but it gives you a sense of the complexity of the structure. Little bugger must have toiled all bloody night.



Just as well I did tried to photograph it, because three seconds later, just as I was constructing detailed and labyrinthine plans for only ever doing laundry the long way round through the other door in future, Hobbit took a wild swing at the spider with one paw and ripped the whole edifice apart. I feel that this is deeply symbolic of something, I'm not sure quite what.

More importantly, I've always known the nursery rhyme referenced in my subject line as "Incy Wincy Spider". I believe strange and mutant variations exist out there, though. Any "Itsy Bitsy Spider" heretics out there? How do you reconcile it with your conscience?
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