In other news, Julia went outside the other day to ride her scooter, then came back in announcing the presence of a spider on our front porch. "It looks like a black widow," she said. I almost didn't even go look at it. I figured it was just one of those little fat black spiders we had in Baytown. I should have known better. If Julia knows anything, she knows her marine mammals, her insects and her arachnids.
So I went outside to take a look, and sure enough, there was a black spider with the red hourglass on its body. I called the office of our townhouses and described to the manager what I was looking at. I hoped to hear, "Oh, that's one of those spiders that looks just like a black widow, but it's harmless. There are no black widows in Arkansas." But no. She said, "Oh, yes. Everybody's been calling me about black widows on their porches. I've never seen so many black widows in my life."
I squashed the spider before she was even done with her sentence. I've killed two more since then and sprayed ammonia into the hole I saw them crawling out of.
It could be worse. In Baytown, we had the occasional alligator walking around the neighborhood.