Fly on the Wall is a monthly challenge that I share with my blogging sisters, Karen and Marcia (and this time, Sarah!) where we invite people into our lives and recap the activities and/or thoughts of our past month.This is a wee glimpse into mine... Okay, I tried to find the cutest one I could. It still makes me shiver.
Sigh.
Thefact that spiders and I aren’t friends won’t come as a surprise to many of you.Further,the statement ‘Spiders and I exist best when on different time continuums’ willalso strike a familiar chord.Butstill, I’m bothered by what follows…

The eensy weensy* spider climbed up the waterspout.
Actually as far as this goes, I’m fine with it. Spider in waterspout. Diane. Both in different quadrants of their co-existent world and unlikely to cross paths. We’re good.

On with the poem…Down came the rainStill good. I like rain.And washed the spider out.Uh-oh. Here’s where the poem and I begin to come to odds. I mean, I can totally sympathize with someone being washed out of their homes.Even spiders.Ahem…Out came the sunI like sun, too. Sun soaked=Warm. Glorious. Happy. Who’s with me?And dried up all the rainOkay. A normal and natural consequence. I use this principal of nature every day for drying laundry. True story.And the eensie weensie spider climbed up the spout again. Here,I’m forced to say, “Good for you, Mr. (Or Ms.) Spider. You have more stick-to-it-ive-nessthan most people I know. Including me.”Becausehow many of us would simply dust (or dry) themselves off and start in again?Believeme, there would be a lot of ‘what-if(s)’ and ‘but last time(s)’ rolling aroundin my noggin. And it would take a lot more than a brightly shining,sun-er-ific day to get me to start that arduous journey once more.And—I’massuming here—but what if during that whole ‘up the waterspout’ thing, little Ms.(or Mr.) Spider had also constructed a home of fine filaments that took many ‘spiderhours’ to construct. So, in truth, not only was he (or she) washed out, butalso his home and belongings were now somewhere out of Waterspout Falls (not atourist hot spot) and up Waterspout Creek.Withouta paddle.Sothat whole ‘up the waterspout’ thing becomes much more of a ‘starting over fromscratch’ affair than simply climbing and re-climbing.Isuddenly find myself in awe of such unwavering resolve and resolution. Andhope.Intruth, this poem becomes much more a statement toward keeping up one’s couragethan of a little spider climbing again and again (you have no idea how many repeatsmy kids could happily sing) the same steep slope.Soto all those determined and courageous spiders out there in the world…I salute you!Andnow for the ‘silly’ in all of us, my second son’s version of Eensy Weensy. Sungendlessly (with appropriate hand gestures) to all of his kids when they weretoddlers.
Theeensie weensie parasite crawled up the chi-ld’s back.Downcame the rain and washed it down the crack.Outcame the sun and dried up all the rain…Andthe eensie weensie parasite crawled up and ate his brain!
Youcan now picture the resultant squeals of laughter.
*See also "Incy Wincy”Spider. Or “Itsy Bitsy”. I’m assuming they all mean the same thing…
If you enjoyed my Fly on the Wall post, go now and see what my friends have been up to this month!You'll be glad you did!

Baking In A Tornado 

Menopausal Mother 

What TF Sarah