Bordering on arachnophilia

(Note of hysteria prevention: links in this blog post will contain photos of spiders.)

My house has become a spider house ... but only on the outside.

Seriously. I have two, and now perhaps three, spiders living by my front door. There's a brown crab spider with a lovely huge web going from the east side of the house to the trash can. The only reason this makes me sad is that when I take the crash to the curb tonight, the pretty web will be broken. (Here's a link to a picture of a crab spider, xysticus, though not mine in particular.)

The spider that lives on the east side of the door is a funnel web spider. I know this because there is a web there, shaped like a funnel. Sometimes, if it's not afraid (which is rare), it will come out of the funnel-y bit and wait on the web for some food to wander by. I haven't seen this one, whom I've been calling Remus as I initially thought it was a wolf spider (before I remembered wolf spiders don't spin webs), for a few days.

I did, however, see an actual wolf spider today, near Remus' usual hiding spot. (I know it's not Remus, because Remus was missing one of its legs; the wolf spider has all eight.) Actually, I think this wolf spider is a rabid wolf spider — Rabidosa rabida.

I don't really mind spiders, apart from if they crawl on me. If I happen to spot one in the house, I catch it in a glass and let it outside. (After all, they take care of all the nasty bugs I don't want in the house.) I think probably the only spider I would have problems with would be a huntsman spider, also known as a clock spider, because they're fucking huge and scary.

I probably shouldn't go on too long about spiders, as I'll just scare Oboekönigin away from my house forever.