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Miss Muffet, hell.
Nghyyyaarrgghhclhh. Ngggh. Nggggh. Yyyygghllchh. (shudder. twitch.) Nngggnh.
I just started downstairs to put Mom to bed. I opened the door to the landing, which is in the house, at the top of her living room stairs. Something dark flitted across the top of my vision. I thought it was a moth, since they do get in from time to time. And then I saw it. Not.a.moth. It was a freakin' spider.
I don't actually mind spiders. I have a couple of "pets" on the deck that I'm careful not to harm, since they stay put and I know where their webs are, and they catch the bitey bugs. I even think they're rather attractive, in their gaudy striped suits. I've always captured spiders inside, when I could, or could talk a more dextrous kid into it, and put them out. I only kill when the buggers won't be caught, and I always spare a little regret.
This was freakin Shelob. Black, solid dense black as so few spiders actually are, and damn fuzzy, like it was a flocked toy. Not Shelob-like in that the legs were long in proportion to the body, which was the frippin size of my thumb.
Ngyghaaahh. Nyyergh.
So I whipped back inside and called H, who had just gone to bed. "Wha?"
I raised my voice and spoke clearly. "Get.your.glasses. Get.your.shoes. Put.them.on. Get.the.swatter. Come.here." That got him. He appeared at my side in short order, armed and wide awake. "What?"
"Spider.Black.Fuzzy.Huge. Git 'im," I pointed. He stepped out onto the landing and looked where I had pointed. For a long time without saying anything.
"I did NOT dream it."
"I see it." Wham! Wham! WHAMWHAM!
He walked back in with the corpse on the outstretched swatter. It twitched. Gnyarghh. The legs were two and a half inches long, easy. Plus the body--three-quarters if not an inch wide. We're talking roughly six inches, people, dead black, no markings, and freakin' fuzzy. In calmer times I might have put it in a jar and tried to identify it.
I was afraid it would reanimate, unscrew the jar lid and come seeking revenge. We flushed it.
I lift the lid with caution, and sit the same way. Nhyhaarrgh.
I just started downstairs to put Mom to bed. I opened the door to the landing, which is in the house, at the top of her living room stairs. Something dark flitted across the top of my vision. I thought it was a moth, since they do get in from time to time. And then I saw it. Not.a.moth. It was a freakin' spider.
I don't actually mind spiders. I have a couple of "pets" on the deck that I'm careful not to harm, since they stay put and I know where their webs are, and they catch the bitey bugs. I even think they're rather attractive, in their gaudy striped suits. I've always captured spiders inside, when I could, or could talk a more dextrous kid into it, and put them out. I only kill when the buggers won't be caught, and I always spare a little regret.
This was freakin Shelob. Black, solid dense black as so few spiders actually are, and damn fuzzy, like it was a flocked toy. Not Shelob-like in that the legs were long in proportion to the body, which was the frippin size of my thumb.
Ngyghaaahh. Nyyergh.
So I whipped back inside and called H, who had just gone to bed. "Wha?"
I raised my voice and spoke clearly. "Get.your.glasses. Get.your.shoes. Put.them.on. Get.the.swatter. Come.here." That got him. He appeared at my side in short order, armed and wide awake. "What?"
"Spider.Black.Fuzzy.Huge. Git 'im," I pointed. He stepped out onto the landing and looked where I had pointed. For a long time without saying anything.
"I did NOT dream it."
"I see it." Wham! Wham! WHAMWHAM!
He walked back in with the corpse on the outstretched swatter. It twitched. Gnyarghh. The legs were two and a half inches long, easy. Plus the body--three-quarters if not an inch wide. We're talking roughly six inches, people, dead black, no markings, and freakin' fuzzy. In calmer times I might have put it in a jar and tried to identify it.
I was afraid it would reanimate, unscrew the jar lid and come seeking revenge. We flushed it.
I lift the lid with caution, and sit the same way. Nhyhaarrgh.
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Thankfully, I've never seen them in multiples, or tribes, or whatever.
{{{you}}}
It's gone. You're safe. All is well.
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Gnyargh.
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in Arizona
I went looking, to see if I could find a picture of a black one on the web, and to confirm that they live in your state.
Remind me, next time you post about spiders, that they FREAK ME OUT!
Ngyaaah!
They don't live in your state. Tarantulas do not go east of the Mississippi River. In my little moment of research (before I ran shrieking), I found that there is a brand new, never before seen type of spider in your state. The picture in no way fit your description, however, and I'm not going to tell you what it looked like. Ngyaaah again.
I found two possibilities (though one (joke) website said there are 10,000 spider species, and all of those and at least two undiscovered ones live in NC).
1. The wolf spider, which is harmless to humans, and is similar to your description--but most of them have patterns. The only one I found without patterns was a juvenile, but it was more brown than black.
2. The brown recluse, which I never realized, but in low light looks black. It's VERY long legged and furry, no patterns. The picture I saw looked just like your description sounded.
If you think it might be a brown recluse, you might want to think about fumigation. They're poisonous, though you won't (according to a very helpful NC scientist) die from the bite.
I'm very sorry to add to your NGYAHHH. If it helps any, I'll be freaking out at every shadow for the next two days, at least.
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Okay, I've been informed by My Hero, who actually got a better look at it than I did, that it was NOT five inches across (counting legs) more like three (and a bit, I swear). And that it did have mottled grey and black markings, and was almost certainly a wolf spider, which as you just found out, are indigenous, and which we do have, occasionally, in outbuildings and Places Where I Don't Often Go.
One or the other of the kids was often working on his bike out in the shop at night. The shop has an old linoleum rug on the floor. It also has a resident population of wolf spiders, which help keep down the camel crickets and other icks. One night a Kid reported, "Mom, I heard it before I saw it. It sounded like a little tap-dancer."
So, lesser nyharrgs. Still, surprise is so very not good. Now go scrub that unwanted knowledge out of your brain and stop looking into shadows.
(((You))) back.
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Hundreds of years of feminism dissolved instantly & I screamed my bloody head off. Victor thought I was being murdered.
My only consolation was that he found it damn near as disturbing as I did, knocking it into a bag and hastily chucking the bag out on the porch, where it continued to make rustling noises for several weeks before finally giving up the ghost.
Large, suprise insects are Not Fun.
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Hey, can I borrow the frog in your icon? He looks like he'd be handy to have around.
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