An Open Letter to the Spider Who Lives In the Tree In Our Yard

Dear Mr. Big Spider,

Please stop building spider webs across our front gate. I am tired of walking through them in the dark then doing the stupid spider dance where I spin around slapping the sides of my face and swatting at my back.

Where I come from, spiders are a little more modest about their size and they choose to build webs in corners of barns or attics or places where the web can only enhance the spooky ambiance. They also take pride in the construction of their snares instead of hastily stringing a few lines across the driveway at head height.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I appreciate you clearing the flies and bugs from the air; I just don't want to be part of the process.

Look, we have a large front yard and you live in a very large tree. I am sure we can reach a compromise.

Warm Regards,

-joe

Hermit in training

It has been almost a week since I flew back from Canberra. Mary and the kids stayed behind to spend more time with family there and I returned home to work another week before the Christmas holiday. Sunday afternoon, I will begin the drive back to Canberra and meet up with them. Hopefully Monday afternoon we will be united--barring any uneventful meetings of my car and a kangaroo or wombat.

In the mean time, I find myself with long stretches of silence. It is Saturday and I could spend the next 36 hours without talking to anyone. Sure, I will probably end up calling Mary's mobile a few times to discuss how much I hate Christmas shopping, but I consider that more bleating than conversation. I may also say "thank you" or "screw off" to the occasional checkout clerk, depending on how far along I am in the shopping process. But on the average, not much talking. It is not exactly the monastic lifestyle, but I do have a lot of time to reflect on things.

You don't notice things until they are gone. I read in an essay written by a brain scientist that babies mainly respond to stimulus that is ordinary and adults mainly respond to stimulus that is out of the ordinary. (I was going to cite the book for reference, but this is the internet and I can type what I want without worrying about backing up my assertions.) This makes perfect sense in my mind from an evolutionary point of view and may also explain why those generic, yet quirky, corporate boy bands are so popular with kids whose brains are stuck halfway between learning to discern common from extraordinary.

My point is that my life for the past week has had no rhythm, apart from being required to show up for work and even that wasn't consistent. It is because the people that form a significant part of my schedule are absent. To illustrate my point: it is 4:30 in the morning; I fell asleep before I could finish cooking dinner last night, woke up an hour ago feeling perfectly refreshed and am now eating chocolate cake, ice cream and cherry pie filling.

I think this is why Obi-Wan Kenobi seemed slightly insane when we first met him in Episode IV. After a few years of this lifestyle, I am sure I would develop a few quirks.

Random conversation

Cole: "What are you eating"
Me: "Left over pizza we made last night"
Cole [between bites of his lunch]: "I think that will be my dessert, when I am done with this."
Me: "ummmmm, sure. You finish your lunch and we will talk"

Cole: "What are these things on the pizza?"
Me: "Artichokes."
Cole: "Will they choke me?"

Rocklea Marketplace

When we are feeling ambitious and lazy we go to the Rocklea markets on Saturday morning. Ambitious because we have to get ourselves up on a weekend morning and walk among hundreds of other people who don't care about their personal space. Lazy because it means I don't have to make breakfast; I get to order a bacon and egg roll and suck down a mocha. Mary buys the kids a carrot juice and they race to see who can get more than their share.

We also catch up on our fruit and veg shopping for the week. There are about ten different stands selling the same selection of fruit, so we scope out who has be best produce for the price. It is my version of hunting and gathering. I feel very primal when I am doing it.

I think Mary likes the whole "buying from farmers" aspect of it, even though we know many of the people running the fruit stands are not farmers themselves. Still, they let us live the fantasy that the food we are buying is somehow fresher and better for us than buying it in a supermarket.

The more observant of you may have noticed that Cora has a massive bruise on her forehead. It appears that a puddle of water, gravity and the bathroom floor were all conspiring against her. I wasn't there so I can't elaborate, but it is a beauty to behold.

And on a completely unrelated topic, Cole has started giving me advice. Today's nugget (and words to live by, in my opinion) was: "Dad, if you see a spider web, just back away." I believe I will.