There is such a lot going on in the Furlong family’s life that I am having trouble writing a blog.
But it’s three o’clock in the morning and Mr Furlong and I can’t sleep. We’re in bed drinking hot drinks and trying to find something uplifting to watch on TV.
We are relaxed, happy. It’s Sunday tomorrow and anyway, when you are retired you can wake at three and go to bed again when you feel like it. We are feeling warm and cosy.
I see a large spider troggling along the carpet, making a beeline for the doorway. I leapt out of bed, bare footed, bare handed and looked around for a weapon. I asked Mr Furlong “What do I do?”. He had no suggestions.
I thought, if I just leave the spider, I will never know where it’s gone and it’s decamping somewhere into my house and not knowing where it has gone, will be worse than just killing it. And killing it would be quicker than trying to catch it and throw it outside in the freezing cold where it will die slowly of hypothermia.
Did you think husbands are the spider-killers in a family? Well they are not. Mr Furlong remained exactly where he is now – in bed
sipping hot chocolate.
I found a heavyish book called “Blood Anti-coagulants” and dropped it on the spider as it hesitated on our cream carpet in the doorway.
Then I cleaned up the mess.
Poor spider, I apologise.
But I feel better now.
We might even go to sleep again.