Amazon

I have had a morning of Amazonian proportions. (Well, in my own small world anyway).

By 5.30, when I had already been up for half an hour, I knew I had to conquer the coffee machine. The bastard is so hard to unscrew, but with much quiet grunt and gruesome grimacing, I managed it, and the waft of coffee filled the kitchen.

Then, about two hours later, had you been standing under my open bathroom window, you may have heard the following:
(Radio National in the background)
"Waaaooooo....oh, it's okay, it's okay. Hi Charlotte. You're not so big... it's okay. I'll try and not get you wet, okay?" continuing in this vein for the remaining time spent in the shower. Then:
"Bloody hell, you looked better from the other side of the curtain. No offense though. Oh how am I going to do this?"

A minute later, wielding a plastic box and a sheet of paper I was back. But too scared to brush her off the curtain.

"Come ON you uncooperative arachnid. I'm trying to do you a favour here! I don't want to kill you. Oh my god oh my god."
Scream, as she tumbled to the bathtub, and then many whoops of fear as I manouvered her onto the paper and under the plastic container.

Then, once dressed, I walked her downstairs, out to the garden to freedom.

. . .