Yeah; it came out of a load of potting mixture that a friend got for his garden, and he gave it to my house-mate (who's notoriously-obsessed with insects, and well he might be, being an entymologist).
It was pretty large; nearly as long as a computer mouse.
That's why I hope we get a few pairs out of the egg-cases; so we can have more than one of them. They're pretty easy to breed; all the females need is to be mated -once-, and then they need a constant source of protein. I think that's why the female so often eats the male, to provide plenty of protein to make egg-cases with.
They only eat live prey, to the extent that if they've grabbed something and ripped bits off it, they won't eat the bits that fall to the ground.
Not at all; it was an insect. It's not the same as when a pet dog or cat dies (which can be upsetting). The strongest reaction we could muster was, 'Damn. Now we have to wait 'till Springtime for the eggs to hatch.'
Um, I do, Tristan; not too often, though. Whenever something worth writing down happens. I was attacked again at the train station the weekend before last, and there was a BIG riot at Cannington and Beckingham train stations last weekend, but writing about that sort of thing is too depressing. Also, it's not really all that interesting to me, any more. I still don't like it much at all, but it's too run-of-the-mill to write about. Maybe I'll write more when I find a nice, quiet job.
I really enjoyed this post. You write about this topic very well. There are many cherished moments in life, why not wear a beautiful dress! When looking back on special memories of your child wearing a gorgeous dress, it will make a fond memory.
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It was pretty large; nearly as long as a computer mouse.
That's why I hope we get a few pairs out of the egg-cases; so we can have more than one of them. They're pretty easy to breed; all the females need is to be mated -once-, and then they need a constant source of protein. I think that's why the female so often eats the male, to provide plenty of protein to make egg-cases with.
They only eat live prey, to the extent that if they've grabbed something and ripped bits off it, they won't eat the bits that fall to the ground.
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Not at all; it was an insect. It's not the same as when a pet dog or cat dies (which can be upsetting). The strongest reaction we could muster was, 'Damn. Now we have to wait 'till Springtime for the eggs to hatch.'
Um, I do, Tristan; not too often, though. Whenever something worth writing down happens. I was attacked again at the train station the weekend before last, and there was a BIG riot at Cannington and Beckingham train stations last weekend, but writing about that sort of thing is too depressing. Also, it's not really all that interesting to me, any more. I still don't like it much at all, but it's too run-of-the-mill to write about. Maybe I'll write more when I find a nice, quiet job.
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