I was Brave today
|January 10, 2014||Posted by Melinda under Uncategorized|
Remember this post?
Let me refresh your memory. About 9 MONTHS ago I *saw* a black widow in my aria terrains.
Various antics ensued.
It either did or didn’t come out of my boot.
I was never confident enough either way to do anything about it. So my solution was to throw the boots in the corner of the tack room – which in hindsight did nothing but give MORE opportunity for MORE widows to set up shop.
But I digress.
About a month ago I found the boots again.
I threw them in the “for sale bin”. Yes. I threw a perfectly serviceable pair of ariat terrains in my for sale bin because there *might* be a widow and I could not imagine any intervention that would give me 100% confidence that the widow WASN’T there, thus I could never imagine putting them on my feet again.
As far as I concerned, cased closed: The widow was either there or not, but it wasn’t my problem.
Then a friend pointed out I could wash them.
Mmmm….this could perhaps sufficiently reassure me.
So I took them out of my for sale bin and put them in my car. Where they would probably sit for another 3 months before I got around to washing them.
I’m nothing if not efficient!
This morning I got fuel, and started my normal process of making sure that trash in my car was removed and everything was in it’s rightful place.
And I saw the boots.
And I realized something. There was no web.
My first clue 9 months ago that there was a widow in my boot (say that with “Toy Story” inflection of “there’s a snake in my boot! and maybe that will amuse you as much as it amused me) was the presence of the very distinctive black widow web. It is VERY distinct and I’ve honed my withdrawal reflex when I feel it to a fine art.
Nine months of sitting in my tack room and there was no web.
A week of sitting in my car and no web.
Peering into the depths of my boots it appeared that the remains of the web that *was* there had disappeared too.
If there *was* a widow, it was a dead *widow*.
Worst case scenario: Dead widow in the boot. I stick my hand in, feel something that was not boot. I scream, throw boot across gas station and do my heebeejeeby dance.
Chances of dying? Not especially high.
Chances of worst case scenario? Not especially high since no web and part of the “antics” 9 months ago included a shop vac.
I did it. I reached my hand in. I swept the toe.
And it was just a boot.
Heroic feat of the day accomplished, I put the Terrains in my “stable box” in my trunk to return to normal use.