It appears a Thanagarian Snare Beast has taken up residence in the barbecue grill in that picture.
Not the little “Old Smokey” bbq.
Not the covered one behind it either.
The big one, right up front, with the fern in it. And no, I don’t know why I keep a fern in the BBQ.
Come to think of it, I don’t know why I have three BBQ pits either.
I live in Texas. Let’s move on.
So every single morning this week, as I’m leaving the house and mentally preparing myself for a 90 degree commute in a Jeep, I’ve staggered into the same goddamn web.
My issues with this, aside from simply wandering face-first into spider butt, are as follows:
1. I’m the second person to leave the house in the morning. Sobriquet heads off for work at around 6am, and she obviously hasn’t had any issues with arachnid traps. Therefore, the little bastard is waiting until after she leaves to tie his nets. I.e. He’s trying to catch me.
2. It’s Thursday. Which means the 8-legged menace to my heart rate should’ve decided to string his ass sculpture somewhere else by now…if his motives were indeed to catch insects. I have my doubts.
3. It’s getting stronger. This is the most unsettling bit. As the web hit my neck this morning (moments before I went nova, flinging my coffee mug, keys, Igloo lunch cooler, and sunglasses in independent directions and running in circles while slapping myself to get away from what, in my mind, was a softball-sized arachnid with fangs the size of candy corn), I noticed that it actually held for a moment before it broke. Shelob is learning, and increasing the width/tensile strength of each individual strand. At this rate it’ll be a week before I step into adhesive-coated bungee cords.
I’m telling you this so, on the off chance that I go missing sometime next week, you’ll inform Sobriquet to check the crawlspace under the house as well as high up among the limbs of our pecan tree for my silk-wrapped, dessicated husk.