voodoo in my basement*

I've let nature run its course. In my house, at least, but probably on my face as well. Though I'm not entirely sure what that would mean.

Instead of battling every spider that starts puttering in my bathroom I've just started watching them. It seems highly ineffective to start stomping on all of them because more will just keep coming, like zombies or Greekly invented monsters. Instead now I just watch them, resigned to the idea of sharing a space with them.

This new attitude of lazy pragmatism is probably engendered by all the time spent on my back porch, the hybrid of the in and out of doors. I've become used to finding everything I own covered in pollen and to sometimes being distracted by a stray bumble bee that can't find its way out for all the screened windows. And then there are the spiders. I try to pay little heed to the white webs catching all the leaves in the corners of the porch. A couple of times the little monsters have crawled too close and then I've gone for the shoe smacking and yelling discourse against creepers.

But mostly, I do nothing.

Weird.

*such a good song.