Storytelling Archives - Barbara Casey

Message from a Spiny Orb Weaver Spider

by Barbara Casey | Mar 18, 2016 | Storytelling

This spiny orb weaver spider brought me the message I needed to hear

When we moved into our new apartment in April 2013, our next-door neighbor turned out to be a spiny orb weaver spider. At the time, I didn’t know what type of critter she was… I just knew that she was a pretty funky-looking arachnid, weaving a spider’s web that held her through windstorms, rainfalls, and dive-bombing birds.

I’m not typically a fan of spiders and shoo them away at the first (safe) opportunity. But this little lady was different and, so, we let her huge web stay in place and just let her be.

Until the lawn guys chopped off the palm frond that held her great big silky home in place.

The travels of this intrepid orb weaver are documented here and I hope you enjoy weaving your way (pun intended) through the Carlotta Saga. I don’t know yet if it has a happy ending. She’s had a pretty rough time of it.

I started calling her “Carlotta” because it’s the Italian version of Charlotte, the name given to another orb weaver… a very famous, fictitious spider who befriended a little piglet named Wilbur. You know who I mean, right? Except she wasn’t spiny… just “barny.”

The “original” Charlotte

Here’s another closeup of a spiny orb weaver spider

Looks a little like a crab, doesn’t it?

Source: Bob Peterson via Wikimedia Commons

While the spiny orb weaver spider may look ferocious, it’s actually harmless to humans… and beneficial for gardens.

Judging from the number of little wrapped-up bugs I saw in Carlotta’s finely woven web, I’m sure she was keeping our 2nd floor balcony free of flying insects, too.

With the fancy-sounding Latin moniker Gasteracantha Cancriformis, spiny orb weavers are colorful spiders that are easy to spot when they’re hanging in the middle of their beautifully-shaped webs. Carlotta has red markings similar to the orb weaver pictured here. I couldn’t get close enough to take a photo that showed her colors this well, though you’ll see her in typical upside down repose in the picture above (taken with my Panasonic Lumix from the side of the balcony).

Is Carlotta bringing me a message? – Why is this spider hanging around here?

When I told my friend, Ferne, the story about our little “web-centric” critter, she immediately said, “Spider Medicine.” Ferne’s very intuitive, so I got out my Medicine Cards and hunted for the card with the spider on it. You can see the #43 card in the introduction above.

Here’s “Spider Medicine” in a nutshell: “Weaving.” Go figure.

Spider Medicine Card

Animal totem lore says that Spider wove the first primordial alphabet. In fact, you can almost see the outlines of letters and symbols in any well-shaped web. What does an alphabet do? Make words. What do words do? Weave stories.

Sheesh!

It sounds as if Carlotta’s presence is a reminder to start writing more. I got off track the past few months moving house a couple of times and haven’t written on my blog or anywhere else, for that matter. Until now. Thanks to a spider.

I love the Medicine Cards book because the information always hits true – and believe me, it hits.

The Spider card description mentions how a spider’s body is shaped like the number 8, the symbol for infinity, suggesting “infinite possibilities of creation.” Not to mention it’s the female energy of the creative force. Oh, man… how big a two-by-four do I need to be hit with? “Create, create, create,” the book says.

Okay, okay, okay… I get it!

Carlotta’s Web – … before they cut the frond off the palm tree where she lived

Carlotta’s web

Carlotta lost this home when the lawn guys cut off the palm frond that held her web in place. You can see her in the middle of this amazingly complex dwelling-place she had woven.

For days, I saw her hanging onto a single brown leaf that just drifted and swayed about in the wind. I think she was building up her silky web supply during that downtime because she did create a web higher up in the tree later on.

Until one morning, there she was, hanging on a thread right above the railing of our balcony. The front railing, where I stand every day to watch the dolphins and take sunset photos.

Eeeek!

The saga continues below.

Carlotta’s next home was here

Carlotta’s next web started here

The spider moving-van

Humane spider removal

It was pretty unnerving to sit sipping coffee on the balcony with a spider hanging down in front of me, so I got out my trusty balcony broom and gently nudged the threads of Carlotta’s web over to the side of the balcony. I don’t go over there much and I wanted to direct her back toward the palm tree, where she had previously resided.

And it worked, pretty much. You’ll see a picture below of Carlotta suspended between the apartment building and the palm tree, creating a brand new web.

She stayed there for a few days and then… disappeared! I kept going out onto the balcony hoping she was just taking a rest, like she did after the palm frond-chopping incident but, so far, I haven’t seen her. I’ve walked around all the trees on our side of the building and… no Carlotta.

She’s a resilient little thing, though. She hung on for dear life through Tropical Storm Andrea, so I’m hoping I’ll look out one day, and there she’ll be again. I’ve seen the threads of her web glinting in the sunlight… just no sightings of Carlotta.

The saga continues… I hope.

The dot in the middle is Carlotta

Carlotta’s new web

The drama continues … but still no Carlotta

This past Thursday, I could see some of Carlotta’s web when the early morning sun was shining through it. So I took heart that maybe she was somewhere nearby… just out of sight.

Did the lizard eat Carlotta?

On Friday, I couldn’t see the webbing anymore, but this fairly large green chameleon (lizard thing) was looking down from the top branch of the palm tree. There he is in the picture to the right.

Oh-oh!

I sure hope Carlotta didn’t end up being a reptile’s lunch.

I’ll keep looking for her… but I’m starting to lose hope that she’s still around.

And it’s just possible that now she has served her “messenger” purpose for me, Carlotta has gone to bring her spider medicine to another blocked writer… who needs her more than I do.

Maybe.

Postscript: Two days ago, I searched the palm tree… again… for Carlotta and found – a very tiny spider making a very large web. I’m wondering if Carlotta did hide away to have babies and this is one of them. I can’t tell yet what kind of spider it is, though. It’s really, really small.

P.P.S. I haven’t seen the baby spider for days now. We have a lot of lizards here and I’m wondering if one of them caught hold of our itsy bitsy spider.

One year later… I’ve learned that spiny orb weavers live only one season and head off to spider heaven after they reproduce. This year, there’s a much smaller spiny orb weaver making a web under the stairs at our apartment complex. And it’s too dark to get a good photo.

My Mom, The Queen of Courage

by Barbara Casey | Mar 14, 2016 | Storytelling

My mother, Anne, was the Queen of Courage in my life – a graceful, gracious and tough lady, especially when faced with adversity.

The Finns have the perfect word for her kind of toughness – sisu – which describes determination and perseverance when faced with adversity. My mom had sisu up the wazoo. That’s why I called her “the Queen of Courage.”

My mom’s life was going along pretty well for quite a while. She learned ballroom dancing shortly before turning 70 and had a blast taking dance lessons with her handsome instructor (whose wife taught my step-dad his ballroom steps). My mom helped me sell the directories I was publishing in my evening hours and was hostess for many business and family get-togethers. She was busy and enjoying life.

Then one day in the mid 1990s, she started experiencing foot pain and had a little difficulty walking. Within a very few days, her left leg was becoming paralyzed. A neurologist told her that there was nothing that he could do and she’d never walk normally again.

Luckily, one of my mom’s dance studio buddies was a nurse who insisted that she see a particular specialist – immediately. She did and was admitted to the hospital – immediately. The paralysis was quickly spreading to her other leg and left hand. Left unchecked, who knows what might have happened. But the neurologist who saved her life started her on high doses of steroids, which slowed down and ultimately stopped any further nerve damage.

The doctors never did put a name to her condition, even after days of tests. Didn’t matter. The damage was done and a long uphill climb of therapy was prescribed.

Here’s my mom as Raggedy Ann – before she got sick

Getting ready for Halloween at the dance studio…

My mother was active and healthy… until all this happened.

This photograph was taken a year or two before her hospitalization. She was all dressed up as Raggedy Ann for the Halloween costume party at her dance studio. You can see she’s already got her dancing shoes on.

The smile you see is how she felt. She was really proud of the costume she put together for that event. I think that’s the year my stepfather, Stuart, went as the pope, wearing a long white robe and carrying a turkey baster as his scepter. They had fun, those two.

My mother was in the hospital for a long time, while they stabilized her and tried to figure out what hit her. During that time she lost so much weight, she looked like a scarecrow and, because of the severe nerve damage, the muscles of her arms and legs looked as if they weren’t even attached anymore.

And this was a lady who did strenuous dance training every week.

It was amazing to me how quickly her body deteriorated. I really didn’t know if she’d ever be able to recover from it.

The Queen of Courage at 0utpatient pool therapy

Months and months of therapy…

And smiling!

My mom spent a month in Healthsouth Rehab Hospital, getting 3 hours of physical and occupational therapy a day. In her situation, I’m not sure I would have been so gung-ho to exercise but my mother was determined to get better. She wanted to walk again, to drive again… and most of all, to dance again.

You can see in the pool picture just how thin her left arm is compared to the right arm, which wasn’t nearly as damaged. And this is after more than a month of therapy in the hospital.

Months and months of home therapy followed. And I don’t remember her complaining all that much about the drudgery of it. I know she didn’t enjoy staying in a wheelchair all day and that could have spurred her on to work harder.

She’s smiling in this photo, too.

Christmas – the following year

Looking pretty good!

Here’s a picture of my mom taken at Christmas dinner a year after her illness.

She still tired easily and a family function could wear her out pretty quickly. But she gamely hung on and managed to stay awake until after the presents were opened.

My mother kept on with her exercises at home, even when the therapists stopped coming and eventually was able to walk again. She could drive her car short distances, but her reflexes weren’t as fast as before, so driving wasn’t something she did very often.

After so much nerve damage to her feet, wearing high-heeled dancing shoes wasn’t possible, but she did pretty well in secure, flat shoes. It wasn’t the same as before… but it would have to do.

She didn’t complain about it. She just researched the alternatives and worked around things, pretty much. And her “gang” at the dance studio was tremendously supportive, even if she wasn’t on the dance floor as often as before.

12 years later…

Mom’s last Christmas

While my mother never recovered 100% from her illness, she made the best of the situation and functioned to the highest of her capabilities for a few more years. During this time, she remained the majordomo of the household and, even though she needed extra help, directed the efforts of the helpers in her usual no-nonsense style. (I was one of the helpers.)

As she got older, however, the damage to her body started to catch up with her. Further, as she aged, she was increasingly unenthusiastic about keeping up an exercise program. My mother spent the final few years of her life in a wheelchair, more or less house-bound.

This picture shows my mother at her last Christmas gathering at home. In fact, she was lucky to be there at all that year. We had to get special permission (and wheelchair transport) to bring her home for the day from the nursing center where she was staying – temporarily, as we thought then. She never did make it back home after that… and transitioned out of body in May 2006.

Every year since then, usually around Mother’s Day, I walk myself back through that time, wondering if I could have handled an illness that severe with so much grace and spunk. And, to be honest, I don’t know.