Black Widows

courtesy Steve Ryan

When my husband and I decided that our future did not lie in Cincinnati, we debated between moving to Vermont and Asheville. There was no other part of North Carolina where I would have agreed to live, but would have settled nearly anywhere in the great state of Vermont. We took into account several factors, not least among them the cost of living. Both places are beautiful and provide plenty of things to do both indoors and out. Both places have good food and strong local economies. In the end, it came down to a coin toss and Asheville won. If I knew then what I know now, I'd have a lovely home somewhere near Burlington right now.

Here's the big thing I hadn't considered - black widow spiders. I had no idea we had them here. Not only are they here in this state, but they're here IN MY YARD. To give you an idea of how seriously I take these things, I'm scared of daddy longlegs and those things are pathetically easy to avoid in life. I had a vacuuming incident involving a spider not long ago that scared me so bad I cried and came frighteningly close to peeing in my pants. When I saw my first black widow a few weeks ago, the first thing that came to mind was not "Hey look, a big cute black spider!" It was "MOVE TO ALASKA."
If you've only ever seen a black widow spider in photographs and wonder if you'll recognize it in real life, fear not. They're unmistakeably intimidating and look exactly like they're supposed to. Some spiders that can do a lot of damage when they bite look a lot like other spiders, like the brown recluse for example. A brown recluse can easily be mistaken for a dozen different spiders until it bites you and your limb falls off. Then you know it was a brown recluse. No, you know exactly what you're dealing with when you're looking at the business end of a black widow. The business end, by the way, is the part with the telltale red marks on it. You might think the biting part is the business end, and you'd technically be correct, but there's nothing about their heads that screams "danger, black widow!" except that they're generally attached to the rest of the spider.

If you're going to rate a spider based on it's looks, the black widow gets high marks. Black goes with everything and you really can't beat a classic red. I spend a lot of money looking for the right shade of red lipstick and these little bitches prance around my yard with it stamped all over their abdomens. If you're going to rate them based on reputation, the black widow also sits at the top of the list. Although there is antivenin available, making them less fatal than they once were, the fact that a tiny spider can kill a grown human being is terrifying. Seeing my first one a few weeks ago made me not only abandon my weed pulling project, but I was willing to surrender my home and move thousands of miles away to escape it. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that the current real estate market is slightly more intimidating than the spider was. Plus, I really like my kitchen.

How do you deal with the knowledge that you share your property with dozens of venomous spiders? You research them online and take solace in their crappy eyesight and non-aggressive nature. You also huff and you puff and dismantle their habitat by removing the woodpile that's been hanging out in your yard since you bought the house. As a final measure of good will, sit down and have a talk with them about moving next door to the home of the college girls who have at least 65 roommates and loud parties on a quiet residential street. Imply that it was the girls who moved the wood pile and that the caterpillars over there are fatter and sweeter than the ones in your yard. Finally, you buy that summer home in Vermont and wish the spiders well.