I started this morning later than I have the other days this week, and got to work organizing the remaining clutter in the potting shed. Frances had asked me to cut a table to fit inside the autoclauve to be used as a shelf for storage since they had no use for it as a sterilizer. I sawed the legs in half and cut off a few inches on each side so the old table would fit inside, moving it in at an angle to go through the door of the large metal cabinet. As I disturbed the cobweb filled sterilizer a large spider fell from a corner, spooking me. I chased it into a far corner to be out of my way and continued. As I was banging the legs downward to slide into position another spider came crawling from the bottom, going across my hand that was sitting on the edge, sending a shiver down my spine. I knocked that one out of the autoclauve to the floor of the potting shed and watched it scurry away out of view. My arachnaphobia at this point is starting to kick in and I could feel my chest getting tight with a heavy heartbeat as I told myself it would be irrational to be afraid of the creatures. I've always been nervous about spiders, feeling very uneasy about how they move and see, being a tiny vicious predator always aware and ready to strike. Back home we have wolf spiders which can grow to a few iches with a large bulb of an abdomen covered in hairs and visable fangs. These were similar in size, but had distinct stripes across its back and longer legs. I do not know the species, could be the same as those at home, but I do not have much of an interest to find out. At this point I just wanted to get the pots and tools stored in the large, arachnid filled cabinet and get out of that shed. I could still feel the senstion of the legs going over my hand, makings me shiver and move quickly to speed up the process. Then as I was placing a pan full of plant tags back into the cabinet, yet another, or maybe one of the previous returning for its revenge came crawling into view, where my fingers had been a moment before. This was the final straw. I could invision every leg moving in perfect balance, the eyes staring at me, and the fangs moving as if it was considering its attack. I have no issue dealing with bugs, snakes, sharks, scorpions, centepedes or any other fearsome creep, (I would even prefere taking on a hoard of Nazi zombies) but I can not handle spiders. Not at all. Ofcourse I also find it imoral to kill one of Gyas creatures soley because I am fearful of it. Needless to say, this was the end of working in the potting shed that day for me. I rejoined my stomach and my breath far away up on the hillside wear I would be tearing apart crates. I spent the next several hours trying to think of less hairy issues and listening to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers sing about lemon trees on murcury, angels smoking dust and sexy girls with names like Tugboat Shellia.
I collected the planks I had taken apart and carried them to the raised bed area. I spent what hours of light I had left leveling out the ground and removing sod. Feargals son, Duncan, who was only four years old, would walk up and sit patiently watching as I worked while his father was working with window frames on the roof. Duncan was on holiday from school and loved spending as much time as possible with his father in the country at Wicklow, rather than thier house in Dublin. When it came time for waching up and making my dinner, I started watching a dvd Feargal had given me called insiduous, which is a haunted house story, and a very creepy one at that. I actually found it difficult to finish my plate, even though it was my favorite dish of lemon garlic chicken, fresh salad, soup, and potatoes with oinions and peppers. I joined Feargal and Frances before I headed to the pub to return the movie and chat a bit when I found out that Frances had been in a car wreck earlier this afternoon. She was coming around a bend down off the hill when a fox or a minx had run in front of her and she swerved into the ditch. She was okay but the vehical was nearly totaled. She was a bit shaken up from it all, which I can very well relate to, but this was her first crash even at her age. There are few posted speed limits in the area, and where there is, hardly anyone respects it, making it unbelievable that wrecks do not happen on a more regular basis. Again, this is something I am used to, being that every one back home drives as if there is a prize for passing every other car at high speed on the way to thier destionations.
As for tomorrow, I plan to begin assembling the second raised bed, having the ground cut and leveled and the wood laid out in preparation. There could be difficulty with the vehicle issue, Frances having most of her personal belongings in her car while the house is being refurbished and it being the means of transport to travel into town for errands and gathering food. The internet connection has been down today, and will be another day or so before it is repaired, keeping me from being in contact with family and friends or updating this blog. But this is little concern again with the sun shinning and temperatures rising. I will have more than plenty of tasks to fill the time.
These are different fews from the field where I spend my days. Wicklow mountains in the backround remind me of home.