I learned a long time ago that for me one of the hardest parts of moving is getting used to a new kind of 'dirty.' Dirty being the natural state of a place and when you're not used to it, it just feels like the element is sticking to your skin. In Tucson it was the dust, in VA Beach it was the smell of low tide and the creek in the back yard, in Cedar Rapids it's definitely the smell (though nobody knows just what it reminds them of), in DC it's the swampy humidity, and, for me, in Iowa City it's the bugs.


While I am a firm believer that cockroaches, ants, and those fake ladybugs that travel 400 deep and bite(?!) are God's gift to the Raid Company and should be treated accordingly, I've got a bizarre hold up about killing spiders. I don't like spiders. I don't like them near me, looking at me, in my house, or webbing up my stuff. So (as long as its not one of those giant brown spiders which I swear are big enough to have a personality and possibly a job and pet of his own) I get a paper. I hold it out in front of them and those spiders that can be convinced to walk forward onto the sheet get a free trip to the garden or, if it's nasty outside, into the bushes at the base of my window.

Those that refuse a change in surface,however, perhaps too stubborn or shy, eventually do meet the paper as I use for cleanup after flattening their little bodies against the wall or hardwood floor.