This morning we had quite a fog, and since it’s spider season I went out to see if I could find some dew-laden spiderwebs to photograph. Unfortunately, my shoes were wet from the grass and the deck was slippery, and stepping off the deck my feet went out from under me and I landed with my back against the edge of the deck and my head against it, two painful “hits.” I called a loud “OW” and hoped my husband heard (he did), because I knew I’d either need his help to get up or I’d be lying there a while. My camera lens was open, but fortunately it landed on top of me and apparently suffered no damage. But we’re praying that I didn’t suffer a concussion or a back injury.
Well, so far so good. I’ve had a minor headache and my back is sore and tender, but so far no major aches and no sign of a concussion as far as I can tell. Considering I’d gone walking across my neighbor’s lawn earlier (away from the road in case there was any traffic, since the visibility was only a few yards), i could have fallen earlier and conceivably could have hit my head on the road or in another place less convenient for my husband hearing me and coming to my rescue.
Glad to hear it, Cheryl. One must be very careful around spiders.
“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the spider to the fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed.”
Said the cunning spider to the fly, “Dear friend, what shall I do,
To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice?
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “kind sir, that cannot be;
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.”
Did the spider get the fly?
The fly should not have stayed arguing with that spider.
Good poem but bad decision making.
Fly away little fly. Nothing to be gained by saying another word.
Get outta there!
“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the spider to the fly;
“‘Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many pretty things to show when you are there.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “To ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”
“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the spider to the fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
They NEVER, NEVER WAKE again, who sleep upon YOUR bed.”
Said the cunning spider to the fly, “Dear friend, what shall I do,
To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice?
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “kind sir, that cannot be;
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.”
“Sweet creature!” said the spider, “you’re witty and you’re wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,
If you’ll step in one moment dear, you shall behold yourself.”
I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say,
And bidding you good-morning NOW, I’ll call ANOTHER day.”
The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
“Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing:
Your robes are green and purple; there’s a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead.”
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly,
Hearing his wily flattering words, came slowly flitting by.
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her crested head – POOR FOOLISH THING! At last,
Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlor; but she ne’er came out again!
And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed;
Unto an evil counselor close heart, and ear, and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.
Hope you are feeling better, Cheryl. My aunt had a similar fall recently and cracked a vertebrae. I have noticed I am more prone to such mishaps than I was just a few years ago, and the last time I went skiing, someone had made all of the slopes much steeper. I blamed it on Obama.
Wandering Views 
This morning we had quite a fog, and since it’s spider season I went out to see if I could find some dew-laden spiderwebs to photograph. Unfortunately, my shoes were wet from the grass and the deck was slippery, and stepping off the deck my feet went out from under me and I landed with my back against the edge of the deck and my head against it, two painful “hits.” I called a loud “OW” and hoped my husband heard (he did), because I knew I’d either need his help to get up or I’d be lying there a while. My camera lens was open, but fortunately it landed on top of me and apparently suffered no damage. But we’re praying that I didn’t suffer a concussion or a back injury.
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Ouch. Praying for quick recovery from minor bruising. And hoping it is nothing more.
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Oh, that hurt just reading about it, Cheryl. 😦 Praying as mumsee said, that it’s bruising only.
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But you got the photo, right?
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Come into my parlor, said the spider to the Cheryl…..
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It is the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy
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Hey!
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The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many pretty things to show when you are there
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O no, no,said the little fly,To ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.
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Well, so far so good. I’ve had a minor headache and my back is sore and tender, but so far no major aches and no sign of a concussion as far as I can tell. Considering I’d gone walking across my neighbor’s lawn earlier (away from the road in case there was any traffic, since the visibility was only a few yards), i could have fallen earlier and conceivably could have hit my head on the road or in another place less convenient for my husband hearing me and coming to my rescue.
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Glad to hear it, Cheryl. One must be very careful around spiders.
“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the spider to the fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Said the cunning spider to the fly, “Dear friend, what shall I do,
To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice?
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “kind sir, that cannot be;
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Did the spider get the fly?
The fly should not have stayed arguing with that spider.
Good poem but bad decision making.
Fly away little fly. Nothing to be gained by saying another word.
Get outta there!
LikeLiked by 6 people
“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the spider to the fly;
“‘Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many pretty things to show when you are there.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “To ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”
“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the spider to the fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
They NEVER, NEVER WAKE again, who sleep upon YOUR bed.”
Said the cunning spider to the fly, “Dear friend, what shall I do,
To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice?
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “kind sir, that cannot be;
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.”
“Sweet creature!” said the spider, “you’re witty and you’re wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,
If you’ll step in one moment dear, you shall behold yourself.”
I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say,
And bidding you good-morning NOW, I’ll call ANOTHER day.”
The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
“Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing:
Your robes are green and purple; there’s a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead.”
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly,
Hearing his wily flattering words, came slowly flitting by.
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her crested head – POOR FOOLISH THING! At last,
Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlor; but she ne’er came out again!
And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed;
Unto an evil counselor close heart, and ear, and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.
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T is having a hard time today, her first anniversary. Thanks for your prayers.
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Praying, Michelle.
Cheryl, so sorry about your fall. That sounds very painful, but I’m glad so far things seem OK. I pray you make a quick recovery.
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Hope you are feeling better, Cheryl. My aunt had a similar fall recently and cracked a vertebrae. I have noticed I am more prone to such mishaps than I was just a few years ago, and the last time I went skiing, someone had made all of the slopes much steeper. I blamed it on Obama.
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Looking forward to the spider photo
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Taken from a unique angle …
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