So my husband gets called out on a job this evening (Saniflo engineer) and is on his way to the next town when he gets a phone call. It’s the wife.
“There’s a big spider” says the wife in a pathetic voice, not taking her wide, frightened eyes off said spider just in case it runs. She can’t go near it herself but needs to watch where it goes so that it can be tracked down and removed from the house before bedtime. The fear of a big spider roaming the floors, walls, ceilings, her pillow, her bed covers, her face during the night is enough to keep her from sleeping…ever again. Until its capture, the wife is a total basket case.
The husband is already too far away to turn back for a rescue mission.
So my son is going out for a meal and is getting himself ready at his house about 7 miles away when he gets a phone call. It’s his mum.
“There’s a big spider”….
He couldn’t come to rescue me either, not for another 40 minutes. As a last resort, I decided to ring our neighbours. I could have simply nipped to their front door and knocked on it but, that would have meant taking my eyes off the spider. Just as I’m about to tap their number into the phone, a knight in shining Fiat Scudo van pulls up outside. My husband had driven all the way back from Boroughbridge to catch the spider. Best husband ever.
Haven’t taken any work in progress photos for the last few paintings because, basically, I’ve been concentrating so hard on getting them finished that I keep forgetting to whip out the camera.