OK, I think it is time to get personal. After all, I have been exposing myself as a blogger for more than a week, so I think it is time to reveal the truth about my home. Show it as it is, warts and all. Alright, maybe warts would be a little too much for my readers, but here it is, the embarrassing and awkward reality.
Cobweb. Yep, spiders seem to believe that squatting here and there in our house will make us give it up and sign over the deeds to these eight-legged horrors. Well, they obviously have not met a Swede on a mission before. Armed with the hoover, telescoped to full length, I counter-attack. Ceiling, corners, under tables, they can run but they can't hide. Not from a Viking. Not from me and my hoover, fuelled by my hatred for them and their wicked webs. And so: victory, mission completed. Sweaty but satisfied I carry the hoover back downstairs and applaud myself on a job well done.
Or so I thought. Those of you with an eye for detail will already have spotted it. The subtle revenge of one stubborn spider. Too subtle for my ageing eye to see through the camera, but plainly obvious when blown up on the computer. My cherished bird cage, covered in cobweb. Now there is a beautiful example of man versus nature. Or woman versus irritating spider, as it were. One - nil to the spider.