Sometimes when the kids are clingy and clients are complaining (and vice versa) I find myself thinking things like, "What I really need is a good bout of the flu to make me stay in bed and knit for several days."
What I fail to remember is that the flu doesn't make you want to sit in bed and knit. It makes you want to curl up in a fetal position and wish for death. It also occurred to me that weeks 6 through 12 of pregnancy felt a lot like that, and so, no thank you, we won't be having any more babies in the near future. I'm just glad that after several days of compulsive vomiting I no longer have to know what my food looks like after I swallow it.
In the meantime, the spiders in my house have disappeared as mysteriously as they arrived. This lends credence to both Jim's and Carole's theories below, that a) they were venturing inside in search of moisture because it has been so rainless lately; or b) that something very primal and female-weaver-spirit-ish was trying to make itself known.
I listened to the spiders. I finished one of the ten thousand half-finished knitting projects stuffed behind my shelf, and lo! They are gone. Huzzah.
Plus, summer rain makes me happy. Knitting while it's raining is pure joy, I tell you. It's better than s'mores.