Tag Archives: truck

Spider Hideouts




Camped near a beautiful beach in Mexico, we often bought our fruit and vegetables from the produce truck.  One day, I lugged home three big bags of vegetables.

“Coming to the beach?” Gary asked.

“You go ahead. I’ll be down right after I clean these veggies,” I grumbled, slapping at the tiny biting flies. I soon gave up trying to work outside and brought the vegetables into the bug-free trailer to clean them in my little kitchenette.

Done at last! Now for the beach and a cool swim. I hurried outside to bring in my bathing suit from the clothesline we had strung between two coconut palms. I was about to step into it, when I let out a shriek. A brown critter about the size of a wolf spider was waiting for me inside the bathing suit bra.

Anyone passing by must have gawked at the bathing suit flying out the doorway.


I was late getting to the beach that day, and although the water was refreshing, I couldn’t relax. Other swimmers must have wondered at the woman who kept pulling away the top of her bathing suit to look at her boobs.

That evening, we sat at the kitchen table playing cards and relaxing with an Oso Negro gin and peach juice. I tidied up the last few things before getting into bed.

Gary had just finished brushing his teeth and as he came out of the bathroom he heard me GASP! His eyes followed my arm as I pointed to the corner of the trailer. There, clinging to the ceiling, sat the biggest spider I’d ever seen. The fuzzy dark brown visitor had a body the size of my thumb and could easily straddle a saucer. If I had been a screamer they would have heard me all the way to Mazatlan.

“And I’ve been sitting there playing cards all evening with that thing poised over my head,” I wailed.

I handed Gary the fly swatter. “If it gets away,” I said, shakily, “I’m not sleeping in here tonight and I’ll be on the plane tomorrow.”

“It must have come in with the vegetables,” he said, as he tossed its crumpled body outside.

And where had it been while I sat there cleaning them? I wondered. Hiding in the cauliflower leaves? How close had I come to touching it? Shivers ran down my back.


The next day we visited an open air market. I admired the handmade wooden cutting boards and picked one up to study the grain. Something ran over my hand. I threw the board into the air and squealed, “Una araña!” The vendor laughed and seemed unperturbed as I pointed to the gigantic spider running in his direction.

I was having serious thoughts of home. But imagine missing all this fun.

Popular Truck

We have a Toyota truck that many a young man would love to own. It’s a four-wheel drive, red and shiny – at least it was shiny when it was new 20 years ago. It’s still in good shape and still very popular. One of the residents of our neighbourhood even tried to move into it. I understand that some guys just want to talk “engines” but to build your home on top of the engine? That’s just plain crazy.


That was a while back, but apparently this Toyota truck is still popular. Today as our dog, Ruby, was going for a ride to the wharf with my husband, she didn’t want to get into the truck. This is a dog who perks up at the mention of the word “truck” and is in the cab before you get the door completely open. She hovered and paced around the outside of the front of the truck, sniffing and running from one side of the truck to the other. When my husband lifted the hood, he found what was so interesting. If you look carefully at the top right corner under the hood, you’ll see what smelled so enticing to Ruby.

??????????In case you couldn’t find him, here’s a close up.


He hitched a ride to the wharf and to the other side of town while my husband ran errands, and arriving back in our own yard, he was still clinging to the engine parts, not eager to leave his new home at all. He didn’t want to risk jumping down to make a run for it because Ruby was again, panting all around the hood of the truck, but I don’t understand why the rat didn’t jump down when the truck was parked in several other places before coming home again. Almost as if he knew those places weren’t his address.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he were still under the hood now, feeling safe, with plenty of wiring to chew through. Last time he chewed the hoses that supply the windshield washer fluid. Another time it was the wiring from the spark plugs.  Rats like to chew things. I’m hoping this one likes to chew on peanut butter because that’s what’s in the trap that is now also taking up residence under the hood.

I hesitated to post this because it’s a bit embarrassing to admit there are rats in the yard, but they are all over town and their numbers are growing. Even some of the box stores and car dealerships have admitted to having a plague of them.  As long as they don’t come into the house, I can co-exist with them, but we do have measures in place to try to deal with them. We would be overrun with them if we didn’t. For now, one little visitor makes for interesting conversation, at least until he is caught.

I’m sorry to say we have to get rid of this rat, but I already feel kind of bad for him. He’s so cute.


Newsflash: I just got the word that the rat has gone to heaven. My husband, being a fisherman, angled for him, got him out of the truck engine and when the rat spit the hook, Ruby killed it, so it didn’t suffer for long. (Sorry to have to tell you that.)

Apologies to all the “faint-of-heart” readers, but this is the reality of living in a place that isn’t “uptown” or “downtown” but rather “out of town.”