Beautiful Acts of Predation
I got some nice pictures of Ms. Agelenopsis-or-whatever nomming her cricket, which I believe she actually caught in her web instead of pouncing it straight off. Good girl.
That is a very small cricket, by the way, before you get the idea that Ms. Funnel-Web Weaver is the size of my cat, or something.
Lady Crimson, who lives to thwart me, dragged her cricket into a corner when she saw me approach with the camera. However, Lady Golden, already on her second helping, contemplated my plush sushi while she dined.
I'm sorry to say that the male jumper I called Little Red passed away earlier this week. He had a daring life of adventure, and was a cute little spide. However, life goes on. With another generation, in the case of jumping spiders.
Soooooo after a day of tempting spiderlings with whatever pin-sized goodies I could rustle up from the yard with no luck, I finally knuckled down and bought a fruit fly culture from the pet store. Apparently, fly larvae = nom. Every larva I plopped into the spiderling jars had a baby spider glommed onto it within minutes. Success! Babies are eating!
Also, babies are fantastically small. That is a fruit fly larva -- you know, those little threadlike things that are almost invisible until you're about to take a bite of some produce that is, it turns out, not as fresh as you thought? Gah. These spiderlings are the cutest things I've almost not been able to see.
Now, back to... what the hell am I doing with all this Kahlua and these Tootsie Rolls? OH, RIGHT. FROSTING A CAKE.
That is a very small cricket, by the way, before you get the idea that Ms. Funnel-Web Weaver is the size of my cat, or something.
Lady Crimson, who lives to thwart me, dragged her cricket into a corner when she saw me approach with the camera. However, Lady Golden, already on her second helping, contemplated my plush sushi while she dined.
I'm sorry to say that the male jumper I called Little Red passed away earlier this week. He had a daring life of adventure, and was a cute little spide. However, life goes on. With another generation, in the case of jumping spiders.
Soooooo after a day of tempting spiderlings with whatever pin-sized goodies I could rustle up from the yard with no luck, I finally knuckled down and bought a fruit fly culture from the pet store. Apparently, fly larvae = nom. Every larva I plopped into the spiderling jars had a baby spider glommed onto it within minutes. Success! Babies are eating!
Also, babies are fantastically small. That is a fruit fly larva -- you know, those little threadlike things that are almost invisible until you're about to take a bite of some produce that is, it turns out, not as fresh as you thought? Gah. These spiderlings are the cutest things I've almost not been able to see.
Now, back to... what the hell am I doing with all this Kahlua and these Tootsie Rolls? OH, RIGHT. FROSTING A CAKE.