It's been a really spider'y summer, and I've gotten a kick out of every different eight-legged visitor I've managed to photograph. At this age I don't shriek like I used to. OK, I admit I talk to them as I pop the container on top, slide the old piece of postcard stock underneath and carry them out on a move to the garden.I've had a lot of spider visitors in my bathroom. Maybe their running short on toothpaste.
My new girl has baffled the crew at spideridentification.org. I like to think she's special, but it may simply be that she was unhappy about being photographed and I didn't manage the kind of record that's needed to properly id her. Possibilities so far have included the thought that she's a Hacklemesh Weaver or a descendent of the Corinnidae family.
