It was the day after Thanksgiving
A day I'm always reliving
--- yes I am ---
'Cause that was the day
that the spiders came.
I never got a word of warnin'
never heard nothin' but bad things about'em.
So Mama I'm depending on you to tell me the truth.
--- Mama just hung her head low and said, Son
Spiders like it dark and warm (well well well well)
Where-ever they spin their web is their home.
And when they bite
All they leave you is a sore arm.
Bath house, Friday, zero dark thirty. First up in the campground. Warm drizzly morning. A little groggy from the previous day's festivities.
Switched on the light in the well-heated throne room and, lo, the walls were covered in quarter-sized arachnids. The battle was short but fierce. My weapon was a bucket, tap water, and a size 14 shoe.
I feel no pity for the beasts. It was them or me.
The week was great though. Fantastic weather overall. Funny how the mountains create their own weather. 28 degrees one morning when we left for our hike; after lunch we were in the "backyard" in short-sleeves reading our books and working on our tans.
Important lesson learned (for you rookies). Calculate how much beer you think you'll need, pad that number by 20%. Then double it.
Thar was a great story! While I was growing up we had a 2 seater outhouse at the cabin, I always looked down to make sure there were no spiders, even after we'd get home I'd do it for awhile. At the campgrounds we go to it's always pit toilets, I'm used to them, but still, ya gotta check!