But it also means something else. The return of the Huntsman Spider.
Yes, as soon as the weather gets warmer, it really is only a matter of time before one of these charming, large-ish spiders will come crawling in to your home (if you're in Oz, that is), and settle themselves on a wall in your house somewhere.
Often, it's in the toilet. And by the time you realise it's there, it's too late. You're mid-wee, and you have no option (especially if you've given birth) to finish and get the hell outta there. Keeping one eye on it, willing for it not to MOVE or, God forbid, JUMP (as they sometimes do), you make a haste exit from the room, vowing never EVER to wee again.
I've had to call in Hubby's services on occasion to get rid of a Huntsman on our wall. His method is the old empty ice cream container over the top, with a piece of paper slid underneath, captured and then dumped back in to the garden. I've tried it, but couldn't even get the container over the spider without hyperventilating. I prefer the high pressured vacuum cleaner method myself.
And there was the one time, in our old apartment, that Hubby humanely removed the visiting Huntsman with his container one evening, taking it down three levels to release it in to the garden, only to find it BACK in the EXACT SAME SPOT it was captured from the night before! Well, ok, I can't prove it was the exact same spider. But really, what are the chances of that happening? I think the spider was messing with my mind. But I won. I used the vacuum cleaner that time. Take that Huntsman.
One time, I collected the mail from my letterbox, and found a bunch of store catalogues amongst them. I arranged them on my lap, and slowly flicked through each one, leaving my favourite until last. The Target catalogue. I took my time, relishing each page, making a mental note of all I needed to buy in their latest sale. And then, as I turned over the last page, sitting on the back was the biggest, hairiest, scariest HUNTSMAN SPIDER I had ever seen!!!
I THREW the catalogue high in to the air, leaping up as I did, and screaming for good measure. Then I ran around the house, shaking up my hair in case it had landed in it, and throwing off all my clothes until I was down to my bras and knickers. I then fetched the vacuum cleaner, determined to get rid of the lap dancing Huntsman.
As I positioned myself, having finally located the pest behind the couch, Hubby walked in. He smiled. A sort of, "Alriiiiight. I'm gettin' me some action" kind of smile. Until I threw him a look of despair, and in an incredibly abridged version of the events that had just occurred (because time was of the essence), explained what had happened. Hubby took over. I insisted he suck the little bugger up. And this time, he obliged.
Note to all Huntsman Spiders: Don't mess with me. Me, and the vacuum, are at the ready.
Until next time...