How to Catch a Spider - Advice from Ros

I have a secret passion for hardware stores. I’m not a carpenter, electrician or plumber (save the ‘crack’ jokes). I don’t know how to change the oil on a car or repair a leaky roof. I can barely figure out the circuit breakers in our house and don’t bother telling me to pass you the ‘Phillips’ screwdriver – just say the screwdriver with the star.

So when I recently wrote about my ‘adventures’ with a spider and my hair dryer (check out ‘Karma, Irony and Guilt – Lessons From a Spider'), my very good friend, romantic suspense writer Rosalind Villers (www.rosalindvillers.com), was quick to give me some valuable advice. I like her, she knows stuff, and she writes a mean bit of prose; of course I was gonna do what she says!

She recommended the Bug Trapper, a nifty gadget perfect for catching all little things creepy- crawly. Although I’m sure it can be found via many other outlets, she was quick to recommend Lee Valley Hardware.

Well, given my penchant for hardware stores my excitement and curiosity mounted. Not only was I going to get the gadget that would ‘change my life’ (her words), but I could also check out this renowned hardware store I had often heard about but had never been lucky enough to go to!

The store was off my regular well-beaten path, but after a few wrong turns I found it. It was during one of my typically busy Saturday afternoons, but I was on a quest – I had to get this gadget! I was determined to find the store, no matter how busy I was. My car was full of frozen food and meat from a whirlwind grocery shopping spree but since I was ‘only going to be a minute’ I figured everything would be fine (which, in the end, everything WAS – no one died of botulism or salmonella or whatever) (not yet, at least).

Now before I go on I must insist that my story here is in NO way criticizing the store or how it does business. In fact, how they do business was quite ingenious. The store was clean, neat, usual-hardware-store-smell-free, and rather…ritzy for a hardware store. The store clerks were beyond knowledgeable and polite and I will, most definitely, go back again.

Moving right along…

Finally finding the store, I pulled-up to the newly built store and….scratched my head. It was too fancy and too small to be a hardware store – at least to be the kind of hardware store I was used to. But seeing as I was on a quest for something that would ‘change my life,’ I had no time to spare. Dawdling and pondering about the appearance of a store was not on my schedule.

A few steps in I stopped short. Wall-to-wall carpeting, spa-like music in the background along with fancy wooden shelving and display racks made my shopping experience in a ‘hardware store’ a little….confusing. This was not a ‘hardware store’ but a retreat for those needing a getaway from the usual grime and oil-slick of other hardware stores.

Whatever, I shrugged. Ros must only shop at the uber-fancy-hardware stores, I realized. Just when you think you know a person…

But I had no time to spare – food was in the car. I pushed my friend and her champagne-taste in hardware stores out of my head and went in search of the Bug Trapper. But as hard as I tried I couldn’t find it, which was understandable given the fancy store I was clearly unaccustomed to.

The store clerk I asked for assistance was beyond friendly and helpful. She knew exactly what I was looking for and led me to a little wall of gadgets. The first bug catcher she showed me was 4 times what I was willing to pay. No bug is worth more than my hourly wage (well…maybe). The next bug catcher – the exact one Ros showed me – matched the contents of my wallet.

“I’ll take it!” I announced and went to grab the gadget. This was easier than I thought!

“Oh no…” she started, and pointed to a code on the tag. “You’ll need this code.”

She then went on to explain that the store is kind of a like a mail order/warehouse store and then she showed me an order form. At first I didn’t understand. Would I have to ‘order’ the item and wait for it to come in the mail? My excitement deflated – I would have to spend another night in my home vulnerable, unarmed and defenceless.

Seeing my confusion the nice clerk reassured me I WOULD get to go home with my gadget. She explained that I had to first fill out a form then take it to the counter where a staff-person would retrieve the item from the warehouse in ‘the back.’

I looked at my watch. Damn that Ros, I cursed my friend. What had she gotten me into? (No wonder she’s such a good suspense writer – she had sure kept ME in suspense of what I was really getting myself into!)

After ensuring I was okay and understood what to do, the very kind store clerk left me to my own devices and assured me she would be ‘right over there’ (by the scary looking soil and compost thermometers). Using a cute little golf pencil (of which I wish accidentally rolled into my purse) I filled out the form. By then I had my bearings and understood what the store was all about. I wish I had more time to browse but with the threat of the meat frying itself in the warm car, I had to hustle.

Presenting my form at the counter another equally nice clerk went in ‘the back’ to retrieve my Bug Trapper. Before I could truly enjoy the beauty of a copper slug belt (another ingenious gadget) beside me on the counter, she returned with a little box.

“Is that the Bug Trapper?” It seemed too small compared to what the first store clerk had shown me.

“Oh yes, my dear, here…” She opened the box. Oh, my shoulders slumped. I would have to put it together. “It’s from England,” she continued. “It’s quite extraordinary, actually.” Her serious tone had me second-guessing the hilarity of what I was really buying. This Bug Trapper was no laughing matter.

With manners Miss. Manners would envy the clerk processed my order then wished me well in my endeavours. Again I wished I had had the time to look around but I swear I could smell the meat sizzling in my car. Damn that Ros!


I made it home in record time and the food was fine. Despite my lack of hardware/handyman skills, I assembled the Bug Trapper then practiced trapping an imaginary bug/spider/insect/creepy-crawly and relocating it outside. The Bug Trapper sits at the ready and despite me cursing my friend Ros throughout my experience, I am thankful for her advice and introducing me to something new.

But one thing was clear - I obviously need to get out more. First stop - Lee Valley Hardware.

Karma, Irony and Guilt - Lessons from a Spider

I’m usually up super early in the mornings to get in a power-walk and a bit of a writing session before work. Doing both, even if only for a bit and even when I don’t exactly feel like it, are a great start to get me energized and motivated for the day.

But one Monday morning when my alarm went off at its usual 3:30am wake-up call, I ‘gently’ turned off the alarm then rolled over and resumed dreaming about all things writerly. I decided to skip the walk but still get in a bit of writing as I rationalized I had been SUPER busy all weekend running around doing chores. I figured a day of rest wouldn’t hurt and allowed myself a ‘sleep-in’ until 5 am.

A little while later with my ‘sleep-in’ over and me sort of awake and dressed, I dragged my sorry self upstairs to my bathroom. Squinting against the bright bathroom light, I threw a facecloth in the sink and just as I was about to turn on the tap……

THERE IT WAS.

The biggest most horrendous house spider I have EVER seen in my life.

At first I thought it was one of my sons’ tarantulas. I’m not scared of his ‘pets’ but I was more concerned that the typically caged creatures had the potential of escape, never to be found again. He would be devastated if it ever happened – perfectly understandable. Closer inspection, however, revealed it was NOT one of his beloved darlings.

But then it moved and THAT, my dear readers, meant WAR.

Now before I continue with what happened next you should know that I truly DO love all creatures great and small. I truly didn’t wish to harm him/her. I just wanted him/her GONE.

So I whipped out my hair dryer and readied for battle.

Why a hair dryer you say? Well, because I had to blow that guy back down the drain from where he came, of course!

It would occur to me later that, in theory and technically speaking, it IS impossible for spiders to come up through a drain.

Right?

But I didn’t have time to worry about technicalities right then because when he took a few steps, I sprung in to action. My sole goal was to blow him down the drain, but I didn’t anticipate what blowing air does in a round, smooth sink. It spins things around like in a tornado, taking everything with it. So, of course, around and around went the spider. When I stopped for a split second to reassess my plan of attack he started running. Can you blame him? I would too!
I panicked some more then redirected my hair dryer to blow the air in a different angle – a better approach sure to direct him down the drain. Around and around the sink we chased each other and then….

…one wrong tilt of the hairdryer had the tornado blowing the poor defenseless spider up and out of the sink, through the air, and right at ME!

I screamed, yelled, squealed and all but begged for mercy from him, from God, from the Universe and from every deity possible. I twisted my already compromised ankle and pulled my already compromised back in my desperate attempt to get out of his way. He was after ME!

Luckily for both of us he landed on the bathmat. While he sat catching his breath on the mat, I kept my hair dryer trained on him like a Glock and stayed out of full range from his potential attack. Before I could whip out my bazooka, footsteps bounded and echoed up the stairs.

My dearest husband was roused from his slumber by my…antics…and had come to the rescue. He knew right away, before even getting near, what it was.

“Is it a spider?” He calmly – CALMLY – asked before he even rounded the corner. (I still don’t get how ANYONE could be CALM at a time like that!)

“IS IT A SPIDER?” I dared not take my eyes off the poor innocent offending creature as I challenged my husband’s silly question. “THIS is NOT a spider!” I spat. “This is….THIS IS….” I couldn’t continue.

And so he picked it up by his hands – by his BARE HANDS, I tell you – and carried the poor offending creature outside. I kept my Glock, I mean my hairdryer, trained on both of them, just in case. What if the spider bit my dear question-asking husband turning him all zombie-like? (This is the imagination of a writer, no matter what time of day).

And that was the end of that. My husband went back to bed without a second glance and I was left wishing I had a personal defibrillation unit.

As I finished getting ready for work (I had a bad hair day after that, and rightly so) I felt dumb. And guilty. And dumb. And guilty. Not only because of the way I OVERreacted about a defenseless creature that was a gazillion times smaller than me but also because, um, there are three tarantulas and two scorpions in residence one floor below my office/bathroom. Talk about irony.

I wondered if the spider showing up in my sink was Karma’s way of getting back at me for not getting up and out for my daily routine. But Karma had much more in stock for me. The guilt weighing me down for days after for taking a hairdryer to a poor defenseless creature was worse. Whether that’s considered Karma or not, I had that guilt comin’ to me. It was only fair – and truly deserved.

So at 5 o’clock on a Monday morning I had had lessons in Karma, irony and guilt, all rolled up into one tornado-like mess. All thanks to an eight-legged creature no bigger than the circumference of the end of my hairdryer.

And I as I write this, I realize now that the real irony was how I felt more guilty about the spider than for my husband having to bolt out of bed at that early hour.

(PS. I never wrote a single word that morning)

Thanks for reading!

Lisa