There’s a spider in my shoe, in my shoe

This┬ámorning there was a spider in my shoe. I went downstairs to grab a pair of mary jane flats I hadn’t worn in a long time, and when I flopped them down on the floor to put them on, I saw something move to the toe. It could have been a rock, rolling up to the front of the shoe with the force of my throw. But something in me sensed a distinct scurrying motion.

I did the sensible thing and picked up the shoe so I could peer into the toe. Not seeing anything, I proceeded to shake the shoe and put it really close to my face. The spider chose that moment to launch itself out of the bottom of the shoe, closest to my hand. I screamed and flung the shoe on the floor. The spider fell out and sought refuge in a corner, where I left it.

At least I knew it was out of my shoe. See, I have a deal with spiders. I leave them alone, or transport them outside instead of killing them, and I get spider karma. They know that I don’t kill them, so they largely don’t bother me. The one in my shoe just made a mistake. He didn’t know I was planning to use the shoe. Spider karma works pretty well.

In other news, I am trying very hard not to waste lots of tomatoes. It always seems like a good idea to plant lots of tomato plants in the spring, because it’s exciting to harvest a lot. But right at this moment, I may have too many. Tonight I made roasted cherry tomatoes, but I ruined them because I turned the oven up for 20 minutes to make french fries. The olive oil on the bottom of the tomatoes scorched and now they taste all burned. But that’s okay because I replaced all the tomatoes by picking the ripe ones from my garden!

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