Doing Windows

I love the fortitude of a spider atop the delicacy of their intricate webs. And I’ve been witness to these creations aplenty, as they’ve taken up shop outside my kitchen windows, rather thick-like. So thick, that my view to the mango tree and distant mountains has been littered with the white cocoonish blobs of corpses dangling by threads. Geckos, cockroaches or other small snacks have been neatly wrapped (and later sucked) to hang like ornaments across my view plane.

I’ve been at peace with this for the last six months of living here. But the other morning, after watching (with great awe, mind you) a spider wrap and stun a small gecko with impressive dexterity, I considered a world view sans the webs. Being on the second story, I’ve been a bit stumped as to how to best access the outer surface of my windows.

With the Bohemian by my side, peering at the paralyzed gecko on a gossamer thread, obstacles blew away with the wind.

He asks a simple question. “Why don’t you clean the windows and just take the webs down?”

I respond with my current road block. “How do I get them down?”

“Climb out on the roof.”

Ding. Right. Of course.

Minutes later, my broom has been wrapped with a paper bag (and adorned with a happy face drawn in marker). The Bohemian is roof top, neatly removing webs from the overhangs while I fill a tub with soapy water.

Does this man really want to spend his Saturday on my roof with his hair full of webs and spiders crawling down his neck?

Apparently, at least this one time. We’re done in an hour. He’s even repaired a ripped window screen in the process.

I kiss him. Hug him. Thank him.

Shake my head. He even does windows.

If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, then I think the way to mine is through handy home repairs.

He asks, “What next?” and starts to unscrew the panel in the bathroom, where I’ve got an electrical short.

I’m still lingering by the kitchen windows, taking in the view.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

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