Seeing two daddy-longleg spiders in the same web is not the norm. He (smaller abdomen) was motionless and I thought it might be a case of deadly romance. He might have come over for a little hanky-panky and she, like the Black Widow, killed him dead afterward. If Beau thought I had a screw loose by feeding the mice and giving them milk, I don't want to know what he'd think if he saw me catching flies and feeding them to the spiders. Hey, it's a challenge and a way to fill time when a nonmilker is on the stand. Anyhow, I dropped a fly (they have to still be wiggling) into the web for the female. And then, before she could get to it, the smaller male sprang to life, dashed over and grabbed the prize! That little booger had been lying doggo in the more successful lair. I felt bad for her, so caught another fly and dropped it in another spot near her while Mr. Greedy Gut was busy wrapping up his take-out meal. What an unexpected turn of events.
"Let me get this straight. Four weeks of treatment and an additional week of booster radiation, right? Five weeks in all." I had asked the doctor several times before declining that fifth week. One of the techs later had said, "Then your last day will be on the 12th." "No, the calendar I was given showed the 19th, after four weeks." "I don't think so, but I'll check." There had been some major miscommunication going on because when I again asked for clarification yesterday, I'd been scheduled for three weeks of accelerated radiation and a fourth week of booster (which I'd declined). In a most welcome turn of events, I'll be done with go-to-town in this and one more week! Ta da!!
It was a good day. (Not for the flies.)