My house was built in 1889. It’s undergone some extreme changes in it’s life, but it’s true age reveals itself every time I go down into the basement. This house rests on a foundation made of walls that are 2 feet thick, hand cut and mortared local stone. On top of these ancient glacial stones are beams of rough timber in true 2 x 8 sizes. And yet for such a solid foundation, it plays host to colonies of spiders.
I’m not afraid of spiders. On the contrary I think that they are miraculously complex and graceful creatures that serve a vital purpose. I let them build their webs in my garden, don’t bother them if they’re hanging out in the shed and if I find them inside the house, I peacefully escort them back outside. Except for the spiders in the basement.