Held hostage by a spider

I'm all in a kerfuffle.

This morning I went down to the shed, as I do every beadmaking morning, in my dressing gown and slippers to switch the kiln on and get stuff ready for the glass-melting day ahead.

Thing is, this morning I went into the shed and did my usual spider check (any other arachnophobics probably know what I mean by that) and didn't see anything. I switched the heater and kiln on and grabbed my water jug of dead beads and went to walk back out when I saw it on the ledge of the door frame next to the door mat. An I'm-curled-up-pretending-to-be-dead massive, fat-legged, creepy-bodied spider. I stood there frozen, in dressing gown, water jug in hand. I prepared myself and then kicked the doormat against the door frame. This was to determine if the spider was alive or if it was indeed acting dead. Yep. It was acting. The bugger got up and scuttled off out of the shed but just sat there as if to say 'C'mon then. Step over me you big human!'. It knew I was terrified. I was doing my best to stay calm but I have a genuine, genuine fear of them and I started doing the cold sweat thing, all trembling and speaking in tongues - I have no idea what I was saying. I was like Regan from The Exorcist!

Now, you're probably thinking 'Laura, it's outside the shed now so just walk around it and back up the garden.' But I literally couldn't move. I couldn't squish it either. I can't kill anything. Flies, ants, moths and wasps all have a right to be here and I'd just rather let them out of the window or door than swat or squash them. So, after I calmed myself down and finished wringing my hands and breathing like a woman from an ante-natal class I got the water jug and splashed a bit of water next to the spider to try and shoo it out of my path. It started to work and I thought 'Phew - once it's on the lawn I can leg it up the garden'. But the eight-legged git soon worked out what I was doing and I could almost hear it chuckling and saying 'Ha ha ha! You'll never defeat me you pathetic human being!' in some sort of booming movie-baddie voice. Then it started to walk towards me. I'd run out of water. It was like a bit in a western where the cowboy runs out of ammo or loses his gun and he has no choice but to improvise with stuff around him. So I grabbed a broom and I thought I'd kind of brush it away onto the lawn. I made contact with the spider and pushed the broom but at the same time I got all scared and let go of it and it flew across the lawn and landed on the other side of the garden. But at least the spider was on the other side of the garden too. Phew.

But no.

The evil creature was still there. How did it manage that? So, I'd used my water and my broom and I couldn't see anything else long, pokey or useful. By now the spider was laughing loudly like Blofeld from a Bond movie and it was coming straight for me. I backed away looking frantically for something I could use to shove at it but it was too late. It came into the shed and crawled under my shelving unit. I legged it back up the garden in my dressing gown and slippers in the pouring rain.

Now I have a problem.

How do I go back into the shed knowing it's in there? Dad's not here to come and get the spider out. How can I sit there making beads knowing that it could emerge at any minute? I won't be able to concentrate because I'll be doing a spider check every five seconds.

Dang, I hate spiders. I know non-arachnophobics are probably thinking I'm exaggerating or being a huge wuss but spiders totally terrify me. It's a proper fear I have, not just a girly dislike.

I'm off for a cup of tea and a calm-down!