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Still in and out of the hospital. Two steps forward, one step back. My 1 Shot Wednesdays are all I can do at the moment. Stupid Polycystic Liver Disease.
When I think of spring blossoms, they are glowing in the sunshine. A couple of years ago, the moon was full, and we happened to be in a parking lot where the lights lit up the cherry blossoms. The black and white contrast appealed to me. Even in non-descript places like a parking lot, there is beauty to behold.
Slowly healing. Thanks for your patience.
On a morning walk, I stumbled upon him. Take your hand and mimic the tarantula crawling. First, he was the size of your hand. Second, why do I consider him male? I have no idea about gender differences and arachnophobia keeps me from investigating. It was difficult to stand over Boris and hold the camera still. I know, tarantulas are supposed to be kind and calm and don’t pose a threat to humans. I could let him crawl all over me and nothing would happen. I don’t care. Seeing one always raises the hairs on my arms.
I admit Boris was a beautiful specimen. I liked his cinnamon hair and how graceful his arms maneuvered through his world. I learned from the Biology teacher at school that tarantulas come out during spring rains to mate. There are over 800 kinds of tarantulas in the world and 30 species live in Arizona. The female lifespan is 20 – 25 years. The male 7-10. After reaching maturity, which can take years, the male leaves his burrow in search of a receptive female. He knocks on her filament door and waits nervously; two things will happen. Either she will come out and consent to the union, or she will eat him.
Today, I got out of the hospital after nine days. This is a dastardly Groundhog’s day! Last spring, my body created drama when she conjured up a strange condition that included a liter of cysts and a confused bile duct. Let’s not go there again. This year, my gut brewed up an unhealthy potion that poisoned the host. Last year, I was down and out for six weeks. This year, as I walk into my home, I wonder, “Are we done, now? Please, no more complications.” The monster bacteria will be silenced by the sword of an anti-inflammatory. I will watch as it assails monster b. back to its evil kingdom for good.
I pat my bulb drain, affixed to my tummy like a good luck charm. Hope urges me on with a response. “We’ll see how it pans out.”
I picked this lemony cacti in all her glory; despite how I feel on the inside, looking at this 1.21 meters (4 feet) plant makes me smile. I don’t know when I’ll return with a fresh post. A happy first day of spring, to you.
