The spiders in my windows have disappeared.
Back in May, the spiders mysteriously descended upon every window outside of my sixth floor Downtown Davenport apartment. I have six windows, and each one had two spiders in it. Sounds like the beginning of a cheesy sci fi movie, I know.
Of course I freaked out, but only momentarily. Then Google and I got to the bottom of the situation. As I fired up the HP Mini, I was having flashbacks to spring 2005 in the southern Houston suburb of Pearland. I loved my apartment there, was all settled in, and then one night I came home from work to discover large, flying tree roaches had invaded my apartment. I promptly went across the street to Walmart to find every roach exterminating product that would not kill Jag.
And Jag had been freaked out by the roaches too. He chattered and chased them but didn’t find them desirable to eat. He was a good spotter for me though. If it wasn’t for Jag, I may have missed a few of them.
Now Jag had tipped me off again, staring at the upper corners of the windows. At least this time around the subjects in question were outside.
I found when googling spiders in windows that this was a common site in high rise apartments. That made me feel uber urban chick. Granted, I was on the sixth and top floor of my miniscule version of a high rise, but I qualified in the same category with New York City urban dwellers. Very cool.
Eliminating the spiders was an option with the help of either bleach water or lemon juice. However, the prevailing thoughts seemed to be to leave them alone if they weren’t bugging anyone. Hmmm. But if they decided to bug me, there were twelve of them, and by then it would be too late to preserve my sanity.
But then I thought about all of the other bugs that may invade during the upcoming summer months and how the spiders would keep them out. Various opinions on Google said to let them do their work. Whereas the roaches had no use, the spiders did.
So I peacefully co-existed with the spiders. I even named most of them: George and Ethel, Wilbur and Charlotte, Mo and Larry, Thelma and Louise. I left the spiders in my bedroom windows nameless in case I had to start killing them. The ones near my bed would be the first to go, after all.
And the spiders never came inside. They magically disappeared each morning and then reappeared at dusk each evening. A few of them became really fat and even scarier, but I took a deep breath and continued to smile.
Then a few nights ago I realized they were gone. It must be the cooler weather. No, they have not appeared in my apartment. I tell myself they must be hibernating in the bricks and mortar.
A part of me misses my eight-legged friends.