Elbee and the spider story

I've got me a brand new friend this morning. Sort of a mysterious sort. How he/she got here in the upstairs office/bedroom is beyond me, and if he/she will be here very long is debatable. Right now, my new friend Elbee is under the keyboard, probably hiding.

I can't imagine how scary it must be under there as I pound away at the keys above, but Elbee aka Lady Bug is staying put. I want really bad to quit typing and scare the bejeebers out of Elbee by picking up the keyboard, but that probably wouldn't be nice. So, I'll just let Elbee do his/her thing. I hate having to use both pronouns, but does one tell the sex of a ladybug anyway?

This morning's decision to avoid interfering in Elbee's lifestyle for errant ladybugs marks the second such decision this week. I was out in the horse barn------oh, there's Elbee out from under the keyboard, moseying around my desk. Sure hope he/she doesn't fall overboard. I'll keep you posted. Now he/she is surveying the edge but-----oops----Elbee just flew away.

Now within seconds, he/she is back here at the desk. I didn't even see the landing, but he/she is crawling along the curled up edge of scotch tape holding down a post-it sign stating "If editing and overstrike starts, click on OVR on the bottom." Elbee didn't stay there long. Now he/she is once again beneath the keyboard.

While he/she continues to check out that area, I'll try to tell the horse-barn story. One morning after I had finished cleaning the three box stalls, I decided it might be a good idea to remove some cobwebs from the walls above each stall. With barn broom in hand, I walked toward the windows and elevated the broom into position---then pulled it down abruptly.

"I can't do this," I thought. "If I do, I'll be just like all those damn developers who've been scabbing up the beauty of our once-rural settings. And, unlike them, I haven't even gone through arachnid planning and zoning to get permission. Those spiders have just as much right to their homes as anybody else, and though their webs don't follow any set Lovestead code, they've created their own quaint housing development. Besides, those homes are really pretty when the window light shines on them."

Taking that moment to look closely at all the intricate designs created by those spiders who are just minding their own business and doing what spiders need to do to survive was, indeed, another of life's profound experiences for me.

I made an instant decision to live with those cobwebs in the upper reaches of barn. Sure, it would have been nice to have a more sanitized look to the barn's interior, but who would care? The horses don't. And, I'm sure that any human visitors to the place would hardly comment, "Nice barn, no cobwebs."

So, back here at the desk, I'm thinking that Elbee must like me for leaving him/her alone too because he/she has emerged from the keyboard and has even come over close to my left hand.

I think that's how it is with a lot of living things in this world. If we just let them be and allow them live their lives as they see fit, they have no plans to bother anyone. Plus, they may teach us a thing or two about how we ought to conduct ourselves as we follow our own chosen paths through life.

I don't know if Elbee will be here the next time I come upstairs to type my blog, but I sure have enjoyed sharing this small segment of my morning with his/hers.

Elbee, it's been real!