Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

For a couple weeks I watched a spider set up every night outside our door. The web was sufficiently out of the way to be permitted; I have strict codes for cohabitants. Once the cold of winter rolled in, she stopped coming out at night. I looked up towards the eaves of the roof and buried between a shingle and the wood I can see its body. Seems bigger. Michelle reminded me that it's probably an egg up there, and we'll get covered with crawlies come spring.

And now, as I segue into brighter territory, I present a picture of Fitzwilliam the Winter Dog: