The spider beside me

By the lamp, behind my chair.
By the lamp, behind my chair.

Our house is lousy with corpses.  In almost every nook and cranny there are dead things dangling from the ceiling, from corners, from lampshades.  These dead things are corpses of very small insects.  Gnats, lacewings and some others I could not identify, all hanging from webs, the eventual entrees and desserts of at least eight spiders I discovered while exploring today with a flashlight.

With all these murders going on around me, I thought it wise to get to know at least one of the killers.

Cid, I call him, has a home in a corner of the dining room by a floorlamp.  I call him Cid because, though I am far from an arachnologist, I believe he is a Pholcid, a Daddy Long Legs (DLLs).  In this case, because she or he is the largest I have yet to find in the house, I believe it is a Grand-Daddy.   I do not think there is a spider called a Grand-Mommy, though maybe there should be.  For simplicity, I will identify Cid as a male.

In his irregular web, Cid has two or three meals lined-up.  One, I believe, is a green lacewing.  Once trapped in the web, Cid wrapped it in silk and inflicted the fatal bite.  I have read DLLs also feast on other spiders, in particular some of the most poisonous kind — the brown recluse and the black widow.  This Daddy is no threat to humans, I read, which is fortunate.  My morning routine puts Cid and I close together.

Once arisen, I find my way to the coffee, and the coffee and myself then travel over to the comfy chair by the floorlamp.  Since I have only seen Cid move once, and that not very far, we coexist from about a foot away, head to his front legs, as I flip through the morning newspapers.

Cid, up close and impersonal.
Cid, up close and impersonal.

Due to Cid’s position on the web, I always look at his belly which has a distinct brown stripe running down the middle.  We have little communication.  There was the time I hit his web by accident.  He backed off and vibrated violently.  But for the most, we live in harmony.

Nebra more than once has offered to clear out the web.  It doesn’t look nice, I admit.  But I say, no, let Cid alone.  He does no harm to me and keeps the house clear of bad insects.

His corpses I can live with.

 

 

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