Open Writing

If I met a hungry lion or a polar bear in a street of Huddersfield, I would certainly be very frightened. If, on holidays abroad, I am devoured by mosquitoes, I fight back with towels and insect repellent.

Once when caravanning I found my food cupboard invaded by ants. I exterminated them without pity and with the aid of a magic poisons tin (remember ants’ intelligence.) In other words, I can turn against animals that attack me.

But I have to recognise that I totally lack a feeling of repulsion and revulsion towards creepy-crawlies in general. Most people hate them, fear them, want to crush or in any other way fight them. I wonder why?

One of my grandsons, aged 26, screams at the sight of a spider in his room or in the bath. My husband could not stand to be in the same room as a light-moth. In summer, people enjoying a picnic will start gesticulating if a wasp approaches their food. Most garden-lovers cringe at the sight of a caterpillar, even if they would like it later when it has turned into a butterfly.

I reason that most cases of revulsion are caused either by bad experiences when a child, for example Michael having a moth caught under a veil over his pram. Either such an experience, or simply by watching the fear expressed by members of the family when young.

By some chance, I never had such experiences. So I have always been on the best of terms with most of the creepy-crawlies I have met. I say, I have met, as I have seen cockroaches only on television films. And although I always grumble about this country’s climate, we are spared locusts.

I have always been especially fond of spiders. You have to be careful not to catch them with your bare hands (to put them outside for their own good) because you do not know whether they can sting you or not. And, of course, the poor thing is invariably terrified by your assault.

I am a spider rescuer. I was always yelled for when my house was full of family members. My most spectacular catch was in the south of France long, long ago when, returning from a swim, we found a tarantula on the floor of our caravan.

Now, you cannot joke with a tarantula, and a handkerchief is not big enough. So I used one of our towels, caught her deftly (a bit nervously, I admit) and carried her, well wrapped up, to the end of the neighbouring field, where I flung her (together with the towel) as far from me as I could. My husband watched the operation from a respectful distance.

After spiders, I like wasps. I do not trust bees. They have a general reputation for being short-tempered, probably for good reasons. But wasps are lovely. A wasp will use her sting only if she believes herself attacked, which she is, of course, when you move your arms wildly near her.

But a long time ago I had trained my family to keep perfectly still if a wasp landed on our table on holidays. Wasps come especially when you have finished your meal and plates have been pushed on one side. Then they explore the content (they love fish especially), pick up a little bit and fly away to their nests to come back a minute later and resume. If I kept my hand very still on the table, any wasp would quietly walk over it. I was never stung once in many years.

I remember the panic, long ago, at a hairdresser’s when a middle-sized spider was suddenly discovered under one of the wash basins on the floor. All customers and staff fled. I took a tissue from the box in front of me, picked up the spider and walked to the back door. I wish I had not had to pay afterwards for my shampoo and set.

Just now - it is the season - I pick up slugs from drives and pavements - (with my bare hands, they don’t sting) and deposit them in the nearest wheely-bin, where they can live happily until thrown onto a rubbish heap and do not destroy plants.

But I had an unfortunate experience once on the Mediterranean coast with a type of very large grasshopper. Some of you may have encountered them. I was resting in a deck chair and one of those huge crickets landed on my bare leg. I kept still, as usual. After looking about a lot, it tried to see if I was good to eat. What a bite! I screamed and threw my leg up. My fault, of course.

I could go on and on. I like creepy-crawlies.

Huddersfield U3A