Although I moved from my hometown years ago, I still own my family home.  My hometown is a small North Texas town of about 3000 people.  We usually return home for Christmas and an occasional visit throughout the year.  Each time we arrive, the house needs a thorough cleaning to remove the accumulation of dust.  The house is a small farm style house which was built in the 1950’s.  It sits atop a hill on the edge of town on about a ½ acre of land.

When we arrived last week, I began the tedious routine of dusting, cleaning floors, airing out the rooms and changing linens.   A few hours into the tasks, I tugged a plastic storage tub from the hall closet and promptly screamed.  A tarantula sat on the floor of the closet and I’m sure it was as startled as I was.  I think I probably gave the poor thing a heart attack.  As my husband came running from the the other room I began shouting, “Sorry, sorry, I’m okay. “  I’m sure from the scream he expected to find an axe murderer.

As my heart finally slowed to minor thumping the tarantula was captured and safely released outdoors.   Needless to say my cleaning was done for the evening!

And then there was the small matter of the snake crawling up the front steps, but that’s a story for another day.