I know they are completely harmless…

I know they are completely harmless…

… but I would be much happier if this Huntsman greebled somewhere other than my pantry. Its body is about 2cm long, and it has very spready legs that make it seem enormous.

We found it there yesterday evening. Miss Eight the Younger climbed up to look at it, and then said, “What will you do about it, Mum?”

“Leave it ’til your father gets home,” I replied.

“Good thinking, Mummy!” she said.

Mr Strange Land dealt with it satisfactorily, using a feather duster and a bucket to take it outside.

Update: Do read Gae’s greebley spider story, in comments, and another one from David Winter, mentioned in comments, and in full glorious detail, complete with picture, on NZ Sciblogs: Sunday Spinelessness – Arachnophobia.

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14 responses to “I know they are completely harmless…

  1. I have to rescue huntsmans in our house, if Adam gets near them he kills them. I let him deal with the cockroaches though 😉

    PS Necklace will be posted on Tuesday, life kind of got away from me this week!

  2. Picture it – Ernst has just settled on the bed, and pulled the folded-back doona up to tuck under his chin – disturbing the enormous Hunstman, which came galloping up the doona towards his face.

    Now, he is not nervous about such things, but that was a bit too much at the end of a looong day.

    Never fear, Sam the Siamese leapt on the bed and literally made a meal of the Hunstman, right down to hunting under the pillow and doona for the very last twitching leg! Obviously the feline equivalent of Mud Crab, hold the trimmings!

    Memories – old Sam-the-Panther has been gone many years. Seal Point, female, lots of catittude.

    Gae, in Callala Bay

  3. Not a problem! Finding the Huntsman was one of the calmer moments of my week… so I really, really, understand.

  4. I was laughing when I read about the spider racing for him, and laughed even more when the cat was added to the mix. Ernst must have been a gibbering wreck by the end of it.

  5. Kudos to Mr. Strange Land for relocating rather than executing your intruder. I tend to do the same sort of thing.

    The only exception is if the spider is in my bedroom. The bedroom is sovereign territory and invasion invites the death penalty.

    … also, if they’re on my bicycle. My bicycle is the outside world’s embassy of my bedroom.

  6. Spider wrangling is a skill to be admired. Bucket is a bit too wide open for my tastes, I prefer a glass and a large thick piece of cardboard to hold the blighter in the glass. Although I can see the appeal of the larger bucket in getting it in in the first place. Sorry to hear you’ve had a rotten week. I hope the long weekend treats you well.

  7. Eugh. I’m not normally that phased by spiders, but huntsmen freak me out.

    A month or so ago, I walked into my house, and felt something fall off the door, past my face, and hit…well, my boob. Turns out it was a spider. That fell straight into my cleavage. And I had to wait for it to crawl out before I could flick it off me onto the floor. So yeah, normally I cope.

    But when I was living over there, I walked into my bedroom to find a huntsman, I swear, the size of a dinner plate, on the wall above my bed. I slept on the couch that night, until my flatmate came home to get rid of it for me.

  8. Adventures with big spiders:
    When I lived alone, I was so fearless that I once captured a huntsman-equivalent from my bath and carried it in a jar in my handbag to an artist who liked such things. He owned a rhinoceros skull and put the monster spider to live in that. They starred in some of his later works.

    And I was once an extra in a TV series (Enid Blyton adventure series)where an Avondale spider q.v. was released among the extras, amidst drama from smoke machines and strobing lights. They had a nurse on set in case any of us had a fit, but we were staunch.

    Now Mr Daleaway runs Arachnid Relocation Unlimited in our house, and I am retired from spider wrangling. I endorse your attitude, Deborah. Just because we’re feminists doesn’t mean we have to have hair on our chests.

  9. my other half is freaked by spiders and would prefer that I just whack ’em and flush ’em. But I am way more comfy with just moving ’em along. Mind you, it’s only been wetas I’ve had to rescue lately.

  10. I don’t do too badly with wetas, but Huntsman spiders give me the creeps. Had Mr Strange Land been away, I would have dealt with it with brooms and brushes and leaps and shrieks as I tried to shuffle it outside, but I much preferred not to have to do that. I can’t bring myself to kill them, because even though they are huge and greebley, they seem so trusting, and almost cuddly. Until they move.

    I am completely ruthless with redbacks and whitetails, which may not be justified in the case of the latter, but I’m not about to take any risks. Not so much for myself, but for my girls.

  11. O GOD GET IT AWAY FROM ME O ARGH NO EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

  12. heh. a flatmate used to move them into another’s room.

    poor kat. she’d freak when one scuttled across the ceiling.

  13. Ha,

    I’m very much and arachno-phile, but I had my own “I know they’re harmless but…” moment not long ago.

    A male Cambridgea found his way into our bathroom so I scooped him up set about trying to take some photos (at the risk of looking like the worst kind of self promoter, you can see one here). Everything was fine until he ran along my camera lens, up my arm and settled on the nape of my neck.

    Rationality went out the window and ended up scared rigid with my girlfriend trying to scoot him onto a piece of paper and me thinking just how big those fangs were.

    All parties survived the ordeal, but it’s proof that somewhere deep in everyone’s brain there is a fear of those guys 😉

  14. Hehehe, huntsman stories… when we first lived in Annandale in an old terrace with huge tall ceilings, one lived on the fancy ornamental ledge up near the top of the wall. In the mornings it would be sitting with its front legs dangling over the edge. Mind you, the first time I saw that one it was walking along the floor that I was sitting on… roughly eye to eye with me…

    Later we had one living in the steering column of our car. That got moved along before we ran off the road during its trans-dashboard excursions. They like cars.