A spider update, a cry, and a little rant

First, on the matter of the spider. Hilarious!? No. I have just found out that the spider in my pants was Steatoda grossa, a nasty human-biting spider. I have checked the drawer for signs of an invasion and found none. Phew!

More fun at the Great Barrier Reef

Fun at the Great Barrier Reef

Having said that, I have encountered a poisonous spider before. We were on holiday in Palm Cove, Northern Queensland, Australia. A stunningly, beautiful place. Just a short vomit-inducing boat ride from the Great Barrier Reef (but that's another story). Palm Cove is blessed with white sandy beaches, outstanding restaurants, top class hotels, and an over-abundance of creepy-crawlies. We have been a few times but on the last occasion, I broke the rules, and left my shorts out on the verandah over night. In the morning, I put my shorts on, noticed nothing unusual. By the end of the day, I was ill - sunstroke, jet lag, hangover? By the next morning it was pretty obvious - spider bite! My leg was swollen, the necrotic flesh around the bite site was purple, hard, painful, and I felt so ill. Apparently, it's not always the poisonous toxins which 'get' you. Spider fangs are dirty, bacteria-ridden beasts, and as they pierce your skin, they leave the infection behind. The toxins made me sick, the bacteria caused cellulitis, a serious medical emergency. The doctor was quite gleeful - a white-tailed spider he said, but don't look it up on the internet because it will frighten you! The antibiotics worked after a couple of days, and within a few weeks, my skin had healed. I was warned, however, that the effects could last for years. Earlier this year, when on holiday in Maui, the lymphatic drainage in my leg, so damaged by the spider bite infection, could not cope with the rigours of activity in a hot climate, and my leg swelled up again. It was gross, and required antibiotics, ice packs and massage! Who's laughing now?

Moving on to the little cry. I warned my husband not to watch Marley and Me on Sunday night. In case you haven't seen the film, Marley dies. I knew it, he knew it. We still watched it and cried. We weren't crying for Marley. We were crying for the two lovely 'boys' asleep in front of the fire, who won't be with us forever.

And now for my rant. It's about TESCO, although to be fair, it applies to all supermarkets. TESCO issued a profit warning to its shareholders today. It seems the supermarket giant is feeling the pinch. I haven't shopped at Sainsbury's for some time after a run of poor service with its home delivery service. I don't like shopping at TESCO because it has too many self-service tills and not enough people working on the tills. My local store also makes us put a pound in to get a trolley; it's quite an irritation. I do like Waitrose, but parking is always so difficult, that frankly, I can't be bothered sometimes. So I nip into the farm shop. It usually has a good selection of local produce. I also order meat direct from the farm, so I know where it comes from. And here is the rant: supermarkets, make it more pleasant in your stores. You don't have to sell everything, it's not a game of world domination. Show me the local produce. Show me the community spirit.

In other news, the husband fell over the little big dog yesterday morning, which meant I had to make running repairs before he could go to work. Not a great start. Both dogs upset me today with the dog walker. They would not get in the van. But, they were fine as soon as they were away from me. Unbelievable. Now, sweet as anything, fast asleep - again. Fingers crossed for next week, the last chance to get it right before they go to kennels while we are away. Oh, and the little big dog did this today too (he has previous, you know).

Good luck to all the London Marathon runners. Fund-raising pasta evening at the Club tonight, should be good.

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