Peeps, there is a spider on my front porch who’s built a web triangulating among the laurel and both my flower pots. One of those pots has herbs in it, and I’ve tried to get what I need as gingerly as possible for several weeks now. The spider used to do this jerky jaw motion at me, like he was going to spit. I’m sure I’m anthropomorphizing the dickens out of this spider, but I feel like we’re in some sort of relationship now. Anyway, on Saturday when I was planting away my sadness, I unhooked his web from my two pots because I really wanted to trim one and repot the other. I figured this would be the end of Mr. Spider, but damn if he didn’t just rebuild his entire web orb by day’s end. I just went out to water the pots, and he didn’t jerk his jaw at me anymore. A detente with the arachnid? Now, on to the dumb dumb jerky driver I encountered this morning while driving Jack to camp. Both boys were in the car, and I’m always more careful when they are, especially when I didn’t get to finish my quad latte before we left. I need every bit, friends. Anyway, this a-hole in a silver, MD-plate SUV was up my butt for about a mile; every time he tried to pass me, he was thwarted, so when I saw him start to gesticulate angrily, I wasn’t real surprised. I was, however, peeved. I mean, unless you are bleeding profusely or your wife is having a baby in the car or something along those lines of severity, calm the eff down and back off of my tail. He finally did manage to speed past me, and do you know where I saw him head? To the damn Giant (supermarket). Really? You’re in that much of a hurry to get to the Giant? Calm down, sir.