I could dedicate this comic to several people in my life. I could dedicate it to my little sister, who watched hours and hours of documentaries with me growing up. I could dedicate it to my mum, who taught me to love spiders and bugs and other unloved garden things. I could dedicate it to my dad, who is always teaching me how to laugh. Or I could dedicate it to David Attenborough or Ruud Kleinpaste who helped shape my young mind.

I love David Attenborough. I grew up on David Attenborough documentaries and for a very long time I wanted to grow up to be him, or failing that, I’d settle for being Ruud Kleinpaste; The Bug Man. Eventually I figured out that I was a female and you can’t really make a career out of being someone else, so I became a tortured artist…but that’s another story.

Although my mother taught me to love bugs, insects and spiders, there are certain exceptions to that love. White tails, for example. When I was young, a white tail very nearly took my friend’s mother’s life, thus securing its place as the lone spider in the “must kill immediately” category. Daddy longlegs were always in the “friendly” category…until I became a teenager.

When I was a teenager, I suffered from insomnia. I would be awake until 4am or 5am most nights, entertaining myself by reading or drawing. I always kept several daddy longlegs in the various corners of my room, I even went so far as to name them (I mostly named them Patrick). It was one of these nights that I noticed them begin to move, travelling across the ceiling to meet one another or sometimes just going for a long upside down walk. While this was not amazing in itself I did notice that they all began to move at the same time. After a few nights of observing this behaviour I began to note the time that they all started to move.


They always began their treks at almost exactly 3am in the morning, every morning. At this point in my life I’d seen far too many horror movies to ignore the significance of spiders moving during the witching hour, so they had to go. To this day, I wont suffer a daddy longlegs spider to live in my house (I have them gently removed by my fiancé).

HOWEVER. This comic was inspired by a daddy longleg spider treking across my ceiling while I was making dinner this evening so I will dedicate this comic to him (or her). May you live many years and have thousands and thousands of babies.

Just as long as they’re not in my house.

Peace out.