Moving

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It only gets worse from here......

There's nothing more to say. And no time to say it.

Moving is DREADFUL!!!

Another Lady

So I'm out on our front porch a couple of weeks ago and up in the corner is another spider of questionable descent. Looks exactly like the one I saw last year on that same porch. Last year I made a couple of inquiries but got no specific answers but more or less assumed it to be a Black Widow or (according to the descriptions I read, an Australian Redback spider which made no sense as to why it would be here in North Carolina. I mean that's a LONG swim.) She was quite unique looking. That's what caught my attention in the first place. Like someone had splashed three drops of blood on her back. But there are NO descriptions of Black Widows with red on the back, so it was most curious to me. Husband caught her in the bug jail and we took her FAR away. I didn't have the heart to kill her, as she was really quite a remarkable looking lady.

And now here's another one. And I'm equally curious to find out what she is. So I find a site on the internet. The correspondence of which follows.


July 23, 2009 (Spider Question)

To "Peter Bryant"

Dear Mr. Bryant,

You have a great spider page on the internet. And since you seem to be quite knowledgeable I was wondering if you could answer this question for me.

See attached photo. This is the second one of these I've seen at our house. I'm assuming it's a Black Widow, because the abdomen has that red hourglass shape. (At least I assume it does. The one I found last year that I caught in a bug jail, had it.) But I've never seen a description of a Black Widow with red drops on her back? So is this indeed a Black Widow? Makes a very sticky web. From the description of an Australian Red Back spider I would have thought that's what this is. But I live in North Carolina, so that doesn't make any sense.

Any help would be appreciated.

You've got fabulous spider shots!

Giulia Pagano

(His:) Hi! Please contact my friend Lenny Vincent at Atypoides@aol.com < mailto:Atypoides@aol.com>, who knows a lot more about spiders than I do.
Thanks!

Peter J. Bryant, Ph. D.
Developmental Biology Center
University of California, Irvine
Irvine, CA 92697-2275
Phone: (949) 824-4714
Fax: (949) 824-3571
e:mail: pjbryant@uci.edu

July 23, 2009 (Spider Question)

Dear Mr.l Vincent

I was advised by your friend Peter Bryant (Please contact my friend Lenny Vincent) to contact you regarding my spider question. So this is all HIS fault. This is what I sent to him:

"...since you seem to be quite knowledgeable I was wondering if you could answer this question for me.

See attached photo. This is the second one of these I've seen at our house. I'm assuming it's a Black Widow, because the abdomen has that red hourglass shape. (At least I assume it does. The one I found last year that I caught in a bug jail, had it.) But I've never seen a description of a Black Widow with red drops on her back? So is this indeed a Black Widow? Makes a very sticky web. From the description of an Australian Red Back spider I would have thought that's what this is. But I live in North Carolina, so that doesn't make any sense.

Any help would be appreciated."

So, since he says you're the one in the know, I pass the question on to you. I have a love/hate relationship with spiders. They fascinate me and I have spent many hours studying them. Really. And taken many photographs of them. However, when vacuum day comes around - that's it! But I have gleaned much knowledge and appreciation of them over the years from observation of their amazing capacities. How many of us could grow a new leg in a molt had we the capacity? (Or if molt is not the right word, you know the one I mean. I'm not an entomologist, just your normal every day bug lover. And especially the Peter Ustinov documentary taught me the brilliance of the creature. And if you're unfamiliar with that documentary - find it!)

Anyway, if you could view the photo in the attachment and give me your words of wisdom, I'd appreciate it. Because I'm still trying to learn what a Black Widow looks like. If this is SHE - she's a real handsome lady.

Thanks for any spider wisdom you can impart.

Giulia Pagano


(His:) From: Atypoides@aol.com
Subject: Re: Spider Question
Date: Friday, July 24, 2009, 7:04 PM

Hi Giulia,

Looks like a black widow to me. Many of the immatures have the red along the dorsal surface. Yours looks like an adult which would make this an unusual case. I agree that it looks like an Australian redback. It would be interesting to know if you come across another individual with the same coloration.

Cheers,
Lenny Vincent


(Mine:) Re: Spider Question
To: Atypoides@aol.com

Lenny,

Thanks so much for your response. If this is an "immature" I'd hate to see what a grown up looks like! 'Cause this one's pretty hefty. As I said, this is the second one of these I've seen. The one last year, that I put a LONG way away across the road and into the woods, was exactly the same and both were found on our front porch. I guess they like to welcome guests.

Hey, I'd be HAPPY to sent her to you, postage paid. HA!

Take it easy.

Giulia


(His:) Hi Giulia,

Hey, if you are serious, I'd like to have it. I stick spiders in small vials filled with alcohol and placed in altoid tins. Those go in mailing envelopes. Let me know.

Cheers,
Lenny

(Mine:) Lenny,

Spiders in altoid tins - now THAT's a novelty. Hope you don't grab the wrong tin and pop one in your mouth by mistake!

Well now I have only two problems with sending her to you. One is - I really hate to kill her for no reason at all. Though if it would serve the purpose of scientific study....

BUT

There ain't NO WAY I can put this large lady in some little vial even if I had one. She's much to vial to put in a vial small enough to fit in an altoid tin. A big jar - yeah, maybe. Unless I squashed her first and then, what would be the point.... How do YOU get them in little vials?

So, unless this is probably the most unusual spider found in North America and needs to be examined for posterity, my tendency would be to take her off down the road across the stream, where I put the other one last year.

What do you DO with the spiders you have? Are you an entomologist? An arachnidologist? Or just bug crazy, like me? With an email address of atypoides I guess you're a specialist in them?

Giulia

(His:) Hi Giulia,

Yeah, I do specialize in spiders, when I'm not teaching. Yes, just let it go. and, in any case, I now know what it. It is the Nothern Black Widow, Latrodectus variolus. They always have a row of red spots.

Cheers,
Lenny

(Mine:)
Message contains attachments
IMG_2873.JPG (788KB), IMG_2869.JPG (1584KB)

Lenny!

Thanks for the Latin name. I looked her up and came across some great photos of her: Pippin Widows (http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.duke.edu/~jspippen/arachnids/nblackwidow080314-3006gate48z.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.duke.edu/~jspippen/arachnids/blackwidow.htm&h=470&w=600&sz=59&tbnid=op8KK1y1J27SbM:&tbnh=106&tbnw=135&prev=/images%3Fq%3DLatrodectus%2Bvariolus&usg=__5NXJkxWF6HAL8sU26eAl87KQZWw=&ei=NMFwSqGOBJCNtgfaoqH-DQ&sa=X&oi=image_result&resnum=7&ct=image).

If I find any more unique visitors, you'll be the first to hear.

Have attached a photo of one of my favorites, the black and yellow argiope. I'm particularly fond of her trampoline act.

Thanks for the many responses.

Giulia

--------------------------------------------
Here's the photo I attached to that email.



And I wonder why I don't have a lot of friends...... HA!

Comcast Episode

This event took place in 2005.
----------------------------------

An Actor’s Life Part XXX

We get a call from our agent in Knoxville to go for a Comcast audition in Nashville Nov. 22nd. They wanted real married people. They’d already gone to NY to look there, but wanted a "southern" type. They're too stupid to realize that NY actors can do southern accents. We’re told it’s supposed to shoot in LA on Dec. 15th.

So we go in half pretending to be southerners. And slow southerners at that. Cute, dry copy. “Frank & Janet Slowsky, DSL Customers.” He: “We come from slow. We like slow.” She: “With Comcast you download music and photos and bam, they’re right there.” He “I mean we’re not hares, we’re tortoises. Give me a little spinning ball time, a stuck loading bar, something...” She: “I mean his middle name is slow.” You get the idea.

They said there weren't call backs which was good, as it's a 7 hr. drive to Nashville. Arrived at the hotel and check in. As I'm making up and Rand is changing, guy comes to give us a mini fridge which was supposed to come with the room but wasn’t there. Timing is everything and we don’t have a lot of it. Get to audition 3:30. They have a lap top which is playing the auditions that were held in NY for all of us “southerners” to see. They all looked bad to me. Our audition goes well. Back at hotel, notice there are bugs in the room. Not good. Go to dinner. Come back, more bugs. Change rooms at 11 pm. Drive the 7 +hrs. home the next day in horrendous pre-Thanksgiving traffic.

Following week we are told there ARE call backs and they want to see us again. Great. Told to wear the same outfits we were in originally. They send new copy of scripts. Now the characters are turtles. “Open on a turtle and his wife in their living room.” Visions of having to wear hideous turtle outfits come to mind. Why does it matter that we wear the same outfit we did for the first audition? Hmmmm? We’re turtles! Leave Wed., another 7 hr. drive. Spend night in non-buggy hotel. Audition next day (Thurs.). Swedish director about 29 years old and about 4 other various sorts - the obese casting girl, the scruffy, un-shaven 25 year old, the young girl, etc.. They spend half an hour having us ad lib into the copy. They seemed to like us. Another 7 hr. drive home.

Get home around 8:00 pm. Phone rings. Agent says they have 6 Nashville couples they're interested in - we're at the top of the list. She says the production company may be calling later - if they’ve chosen us. We then find out it's a demo. And a voice over only . Turtles are gonna be animated characters like the Budweiser lizards. We’ll be doing the voices. Whomever gets it has to go to NY tomorrow (Fri). Rand tells our agent he doesn't fly. Calls back and forth. We're already exhausted. No calls from the production company. We figure we didn’t get it.

Friday morning we awake to find our digital thermostat - and hence the heat - is not on. Call a heating man. He comes. Says we have a bad circuit breaker. He doesn’t have any in his truck. He can’t get the old breaker back in. He shows me how to re-wire a new one. I say that’s all fine, but if YOU can’t get it in, how am I supposed to. He doesn’t answer and leaves. I go to Landrum to get a new breaker - the only place nearby that carries them. The guy there tells me how it should snap in once wired. I spend a LONG time and finally manage to get the thing in. This on a ladder in back of the heating unit in the basement with a trouble light and zero room to move. Thermostat’s now on but heat pump isn’t working. Maybe it’s a fuse I think. Rand goes off and gets two fuses. Meanwhile I call another heating place. Guy says he’ll stop by later.

4 pm Agent calls and says we got the job. One train out of Spartanburg (20 min. away) at 11 something. Calls back and forth. Packing. Trying to arrange for 3 cats should we be gone longer than expected. With these people ya never know. Meanwhile I put the new fuse in and the heat seems to work. The other heating guy calls, I tell him it’s working, not to come.

Train sleeper is booked by them. 11:40 out of Greenville (an hour away). Great. We wanted to leave from Spartanburg which is closer. We have to find out about parking at the station. Never been there before. Station is supposed to be open at 9:30 pm. No answer. Many calls to Amtrak. Short term parking is only 24 hrs. More calls. Eventually find out "short term" parking is for up to 2 weeks. Main office didn't know that. Still no answer at the Greenville station. We manage to cook dinner.

Find out the train is running two hours late. Well, at least that gives us more time. Get there at midnight. Station is locked up, no stationmaster there. And you have to get the ticket before you can board the train (even if it’s pre-paid - which this one was by the prod. company.) One 76 year old woman had been sitting there since 9:30 in the cold. Eventually station master limps in - literally. He had just gotten out of the hospital. His relief never showed.



Get on the train, it leaves at 1:40 a.m. A sleepless night. Arrive 4 pm Sat. Jason, a typical young man of these days with no brains, says he'll meet us at the 34th St. entrance to Penn Station. He'll be wearing a baseball cap and have a BRIDGES sign. We look for the 34th St. entrance. There is none. Call him on his cell. Oh, he meant 33rd St. “Do you have the BRIDGES sign so we can find you?” No, he forgot it . We finally find each other. He cabs us to the studio. They're currently taping the NY couple they’ve chosen. We sit around for an hour. They call me up to read with the NY actor. I thought they wanted real married couples? Rand falls asleep on the couch. I spend an hour taping, then they bring Rand up. The director has to fly back to Sweden, he leaves as Rand comes in. We two tape 'til 9 pm sans director. Then a cab ride with Christmas music blaring on the radio and a ride over the worst cobblestone street in NY - I thought my teeth would crack. Arrive at Grand Soho ($300/night). Live music blasting in the lobby. Can't hear yourself think. We're totally exhausted by this point. Go to check in. The room is not paid for. Whadda ya mean the room isn't paid for?! They need a fax from someone saying something..... Fortunately the bright girl at the desk eventually found whatever it was that was necessary. Gave us a couple of free glasses of champagne.

Head out for dinner at 10:30. I could barely walk. Go to Italian restaurant and have one of the best meals I've ever eaten. Finally sleep - without motion. 2:15 train out the next day (Sun.). It’s drizzling. We find out they had booked a smaller room on the train for our return. Swell. They're small enough to begin with. Picture, if you will, my 6'6" husband on a small train sleeper. They ain’t what they used to be. Arrive Greenville 4:55 am Mon. Driving home in the pouring rain my speedometer stops working. Swell. Get to bed at 6:30. Sleep for a few hours, then I head off to unemployment in Hendersonville for my monthly review. And later in the day I get a call from our other agent saying I have an audition in Wilmington the next day for a Denzil Washington movie. Probably a one-liner. It's a 7 hr. drive. No thanks....

If this ad runs, and if they end up choosing us and not the NY couple or whomever, (they said they might want us back in mid Jan. to shoot the real deal) we could be sitting pretty because it's a huge campaign and will be shown across all venues, national, regional, cable, internet, etc. And it’s three different spots. If it doesn't - we’ve had one heck of a story to tell.....

Meanwhile I just took the car in to check the speedometer problem, heat pump stopped working again and we had the other guy in to fix it, and we’re waiting for four days in a row without rain so we can stain the decks which we power washed over a week ago now and are already dirty again. Never a dull moment in the Bridges household.

THE MOREL OF THE STORY

For the past several weeks I have been doing a Mushroom study, because it has been so damn HUMID down here, and what else can one do outside except take photos of things that grow in humidity. Like mushrooms. While being chewn alive by the thousands of miniature vampires (i.e. mosquitos) that inhabit the same woodland area. I consider it worth the numerous blood suckings that took place upon my person to get these incredible photos. Like Alice, I drank the liquid that made me shrink and walk amongst them. I had no idea of the diversity of the shroom population until I ventured forth. Some of them are rather sexual in appearance (many, in fact). I could imagine Georgia O'Keefe painting the insides of several. Can't tell you a thing about them, the names nor whether they're poisonous or benign. All I know is that they are incredibly beautiful. And have a very short life. Because like Dracula, once that sunlight comes out and dries the air, they wither. I call them forest flowers. (And all praise to Canon for their brilliant little miracle of a camera the 610A Powershot.)

INTERNET FUN AND GAMES

July 23, 2008
INTERNET FUN AND GAMES


Face it, the home computer/ethernet tech world is too complicated for us. A typewriter, file cabinet, plain old push button phone (remember those?) gives one far less headaches. So do paper, envelopes and stamps - in my book.

I’ve been having a great deal of difficulty getting on the internet lately and I’ve been on the phone a LOT with Bombay. First it was with the Dell people, now with the Windstream folk. One great thing about the latter is that they speak English VERY WELL. Unlike the former. And the Streamers really listen to you. Unlike the Dellies.

So I can’t get connected and I call the Streamers. I already know how to do a diagnostic test on their modem (the BLACK BOX). You don’t need an internet connection to do so. As long as you can bring up the browser window you can put in their ISP address. It takes you to their - I don’t know what it’s called...router page? It has a System Summary. There are two main Connection Summaries. They should be green. RED mean BAD. So if you see BADNESS you click on Tools and then Reboot. And you have to put in the code and then your modem lights up like a Christmas Tree with pretty flashing lights. You are re-setting the modem to factory defaults. (This is known as a soft re-set.) Why they would become un-set is not a question I’ve asked. (Of course there’s also a hard reset with a sophisticated pointed implement [pen tip] poked into the little hole in the rear. No comments please.)

After you’ve done that you click on Diagnostics and put in the appropriate Connection to Test parameters and it gives you the results. There’s the Connections in the Home; Connections at the Carrier; Internet Service Provider; and Internet Connectivity. Within those sections are a minimum of two and a maximum of four results. You want to see them PASS in pretty green. You don’t want to see the red (BAD) FAIL.

Since I would rather NOT have to talk to Bombay on a regular basis, I have written all these instructions down so I can do them myself. But it doesn’t really matter. There’s always something new wrong, or something new to learn to do.

So last week I can’t get connected and I run the tests and it says FAIL and I call. And it turns out that my Firewall (Zone Alarm) was suddenly blocking the internet . Why? Because they put in a new update, but the rest of the tech world hadn’t been informed and the update was not compatible with something else - Microsoft? I think. I’m told that a patch will be due out shortly. Swell. Meanwhile I’ve now learned if my service is down to first shut down my firewall, then my virus sweep and finally my spy protection. Which of course leaves me TOTALLY VULNERABLE TO ALL THE BAD PEOPLE OUT THERE.

That problem eventually gets solved. I think. Then once again I can’t get on the Net. I’m getting to know these guys real well by now. They use fake American names because they think we’re all too stupid to be able to understand, let alone pronounce their real names. I’ve talked to Kevin and George and Thomas. Whose real names were probably something like Kailash and Gobardhan and Jhareshwar. (The reason I know they’re made up names is because I asked and actually got an honest answer). Now before I call I first disengage all protective programs. If that doesn’t work I do a diagnostic test. One guy actually told me I knew more than he did! Fortunately most of them seem to believe and trust me when I say I’ve already done the test and give them the results. Perhaps they have notes on my file that say ATD (meaning this one Ain’t Too Dumb)

Well then I was told to go to Start and select Run and type in “cmd” and then ping Google. (I guess if you ping a known site and IT comes up, things should be working fine.) If this all makes absolutely no sense to you - WHY SHOULD IT? That’s my point. Why do we have to know all this STUFF??? It’s too complicated!

BUT, I now know it. And so I try to troubleshoot my own internet connection. Yeah. Everything starts to work fine again. Then it’s down. I run the test. FAIL. I call Bombay. I get a PASS. Great. Then it’s down again. Then it up. I feel like a boxer in a ring and I’m getting trounced. I begin to think I’m losing my mind. What is happening here? When I CAN get on it’s like molasses. So they tell me to do a speed check. Great. I learn a new bit. Got my very own internet Radar Gun, oh boy! Radar Gun says the speed is great. REALLY????? I put in one trouble ticket, then when they fix it, they close the ticket, only to have me open another one.

Meanwhile this is costing me HOURS AND HOURS of my time. And for what? So I can get some sappy “You’re my friend for life and if you don’t pass this on to 150 people in the next 45 minutes you’ll DIE!” forward???!!!! Or those reeeeeeaaallly cute Youtube rocking the puppy to sleep videos. AAAAaaaargh!

Finally we get a call from a local God bless America Southern drawling Streamer. He says “they’ve” been having some kind of trouble between Charlotte and Arkansas. He wishes he could get his hands on it to fix it, but it ain’t in his territory. But he THINKS it’s fixed now.

And you wonder why I’m afraid to leave my computer illiterate husband home alone with the computer when I go on a trip? He can’t even grasp the concept of a document being on the screen and still inside the computer at the same time, let alone what software vs hardware means. The fact that he can search for houses for sale on the Internet and compose and send a missives is a miracle.

These machines are miracles. When they work. But when they don’t.......

A Small Miracle & a New Friend

A couple of nights ago I was in my office and I heard a squawking. How odd, I thought. What creature would be squawking at 11 pm?

I opened the door to find Harlie, our black and white killer, under my office window and I figured I'd then find the squawker, which I assumed was a mouse. Wrong. It was a bird. Oh swell. Don't know what kind. Not a baby, I think, though small, maybe a Sparrow? Wren? But it had no tail feathers at all. Which could mean that they were all plucked off by the Killer. (What is it with me and birds this year? Is there a Chinese Year of the Bird?)

It was standing upright when I picked it up. It got out of my hand, briefly, Harlie went after it, I grabbed it again and brought it inside to examine. It lay in the cupped palm of my hand on it's back. It's chest was heaving and there was what looked like a pretty good hole right in the middle of it. Swell. Just swell. If you've ever had the misfortune to watch a cat with it's prey, they usually give it one nice chomp. Not enough to kill it outright, just enough to slow it down so that it can be "played with." God. Well, I thought, I'll just sit here with it, and hold it tenderly 'til it breathes it's last. I really didn't think its "last" would take too long. The breathing got shallower and shallower, the chest no longer heaving in spasming gulps of air. I've held wee creatures in my hand that were dying before. If you own cats, it's bound to happen. And always it's heart wrenching. The little eyes were closed, it's little feet motionless. But it continued to breathe.



Sometimes, when I'm emotionally strong enough, and I think the animal is going to experience a long, slow, painful death, I will put it out of it's misery myself. Don't ask the various means I've used, they're all hideous but mercifully quick. But I haven't been too chipper of late and was not up to that task on this night. Rand suggested putting the creature in Pam's head, and I thought what better place to put it then in the little nest that had recently been vacated by a family of baby birds (see blog below). I considered taking a picture of it when it was in my palm, but it was all too depressing and I considered it rather dishonorable to do such a thing to the poor creature. That much of a ghoul I am not.

I got the step ladder out and climbed up to peer inside Pam's head, and the nest had a HUGE spider web in it. One of those really messy funnel webs made by one of those really LARGE funnel spiders? - wolf spiders I think they are. Husband handed me a stick and I gathered up the web like a wand of cotton candy and then gently laid the bird in the nest. It opened it's eyes and looked at me. Did it understand I was trying to be kind?

I prayed for the little creature but didn't hold out much hope. Had visions of climbing the ladder the next morning and finding it all limp necked, probably with some hideous eight-legged monster gnawing on the hole in it's middle. Very depressed I went to bed.

The next morning came and I couldn't face the consequences, because the images I had conjured in my brain were just to awful to confront first thing. So I asked Rand to look at the remains. He stepped up on the ladder and looked inside the head. Said he couldn't see it very well, to please get him the flashlight. I did so. He said he still couldn't see it. WHAT?!!! I practically thew him off the ladder and bound up there. Peered in and... NOTHING. Blessedly NOTHING was there! Just the empty nest. I cannot tell you how grateful I was. How it could have survived the night, I don't know. It was surely a little miracle.

Now my only fear is that I'll find it somewhere nearby on the ground under a bush. That maybe it had managed to fly just a bit but landed under my Mums or something. And maybe Harlie will catch it again. But then maybe God wanted this little fellow to live for a while longer yet.

One must keep the faith, eh?

******************************************************************

On another note: another visitor stopped by the other day.

More Gifts

July 1, 2008 More Gifts


The birds were squawking outside the front porch. Why? Well, the cats were around. Or one cat in particular - our black and white, named Harlie (short for Harlequin.)
She’s a killer. Skinny as a rail - she looks half starved (though gets as much to eat as she wishes), and is faster than a speeding bullet. Has brought down many a bird, and THAT takes skill.

Something about this particular bird squawking caught my attention. It seemed more urgent than normal. Very insistent. Then my mind latched onto a happy possibility. A nest full of babies in my sister’s head.

This needs a brief explanation. My half sister, Pam, was a sculptress. Not as a professional, she didn’t try to make a living at it, though I think she could have. But she was married to an artist and just enjoyed drawing and sculpting. Constantly took classes in both. (We shared the same father, but she was 40 years? older than I. Another story - another time.) Anyway, she did a sculpture of herself which had hung on a tree outside their kitchen for many a year. And when she passed away, I asked to have it and was granted the privilege. It currently sits against our front porch wall. The top of the head is hollowed out. Last year there was a nest in it and so I was hoping that that might be the case again this year. (I had cleaned it all out at the end of last season.)


So I get the step ladder and climb up and look inside the top of the head. And sure enough there are four wee baby birds. They looked like they had just hatched. Have never seen babies this small.

I got to watch the growth process for two weeks before leaving on a trip North. Harlie practically lay up-side-down under the head with her mouth open just waiting for that first flight and the potential of a fluttering failure.

I figured they’d be gone by the time I got back. And they were. But these are the shots I managed to capture beforehand.