It’s time for a moral conundrum! As if we need any more of them in our lives. But here we go.
The first summer after we moved in, we noticed these huge crazy orb weaver spiders that loved to build webs on and around our house. I found it quite charming and did what I could to avoid disturbing them. We were unable to use the back door for a month, unless we ducked under a spider web with a behemoth the size of Shelob sitting in the middle of it. I don’t have any particular fear of spiders, but crouching underneath one that could arbitrarily decide to jump onto the back of my neck can still be a little unnerving.
The next year they were not only building on and around the back door, but on the side of the house around the air conditioner. I’m fairly certain they didn’t actually rupture the copper tubing that was the cause of the Hot Mess that last summer became, but who knows. I decided to clear away the webs in the doorway, hoping they would get the hint and stop building there.
And that brings us to this year. Having taken over the back and side of our house, the spiders also began building on and around our front porch. Every surface became covered with webbing and tens of thousands of tiny corpses—the insects attracted by the porch lights. It was starting to look like the Addams Family lived in our house. And while I love them, I can’t rock a mustache like John Astin, so I finally decided it’s time to stop letting the spiders control my life.
Sam and I began clearing the webs off the house, and I used a large stick to transport spiders through the backyard and onto the other side of the parkway trail, where I hoped they would find someplace else to hang out. But there were SO MANY, I realized it would take hours. And the population would probably continue to grow every year. So here’s where the moral dilemma kicks in.
I’ve tried hard to help Sam develop a reverence for life. We try not to kill things, even when they annoy us (an important lesson for anyone with siblings). But I decided that I had to kill at least some of these spiders, or someday archaeologists would use lasers to cut through the massive petrified web surrounding the house, uncover our desiccated corpses, and try to reconstruct our lives. Seriously, one night we were out at 10:30 trying to gently clear away spiders from the garbage can to take it to the street.
So… last night while Sam was otherwise occupied, I cleaned all the webs off the house and killed the spiders I could. The house looks much better, and I slept just fine. I’ll just hope he doesn’t ask me where they all went.
Let’s say for a moment that there was a terrible accident on the freeway between Provo and Salt Lake. The hypothetical accident is so bad that the freeway is actually shut down for a period in the morning. Naturally, this would be a nightmare for people traveling. Say you were expected somewhere that morning, like oh, I don’t know, the Salt Lake Temple. And let’s get even crazier and say that you’re a bride who was supposed to be getting married that morning, and now you’re incredibly late. That would potentially be pretty stressful for your husband, who might be sitting there anxiously, wondering if he had been left at the altar. I mean, it would be pretty funny, right?
For years a question has been lingering at the back of my mind, periodically brought to the surface when I see a particular object. This is a food product—a candy, in fact—first made available in 1924. Since it’s been on the market for 90 years, I imagine that it must be well-liked, and yet the very thought of eating one has never crossed my mind.
What is this candy? Bit-O-Honey.
My impression of this candy is that it’s something like a rock with harder rocks embedded in it. Or alternatively, that it would be like eating nuts and gum.
But maybe there’s a reason it’s been around so long. Aside from the maker obviously forging a deal with the Devil, I mean. So, in the interest of gastronomic fairness, I think it’s time I give one a try.
Okay, let’s open the wrapper and have a look.
Yup, that’s what I remember. The color seems to be exactly that of baby diarrhea I remember an infant cousin having once when my mom babysat her. And inside are hints of some sort of chunks that are surely even less pleasant.
Well, no sense in putting this off even longer. It’s time to take a bite.
Hmm. It’s not as hard as I imagined it would be. The flavor is mildly pleasant, and the alleged nuts are less overt than I expected, although they become more noticeable the longer I chew.
Okay, let’s finish this thing off.
Well, in a way it’s disappointing that it was less disappointing than I expected. Overall I rate the experience as "meh."But my stomach did feel a little weird a few minutes later, so perhaps my wariness was justified. I guess in the end I’ll take it over green apple skittles, but that’s a bitter, bitter story for another day.
Thursday, June 5, 2014 | Posted by Joel at 5:30 PM