Good Morning Boris

It's been a few years now since the screen door fell off the sliding glass door that leads out onto the deck at the back of my house. (For the benefit of Brits, for whom screen doors are as common as 6 litre V8 pick-up trucks, the screen door is a plastic-framed mesh door that slides over the glass door space so you can have the door open in the summer and not have bugs fly in your house.) I never bothered to replace it, a) because this is St.Louis and it's always too hot to have the door open in the summer, and b) because I'm too fucking lazy. Now I'm glad I didn't, because nature has provided its own version, in the form of a large spider that has built its web over the outside of the sliding door.

Apparently flies can't see the glass which is only an inch or two behind the web; the spider has been there for a couple of weeks and has rebuilt the web every day. It seems to be getting significantly fatter too. I christened it Boris, of course, in honor of the best rock group ever. Mrs Bison isn't quite so keen since she can't use the door to get out onto the deck now. She forgot once and ended up wearing the web as a hairnet; she wants to clear Boris out because it's stupid to be held hostage by a spider, but we can go out through the basement door instead, and I want to see how big he'll get. The only drawback is that we can't open the glass door in case he comes into the house and carries off our child...