According to the Beeb, Nephila Komaci has a leg span of almost five inches.

Which makes my biggest garden/garage spider puny in comparison. I really don’t think I’ll be getting a ruler and stretching out its legs. For which we’re both grateful.

Yes, yes, I’m releasing it today. Not only does it seem to have an imploring gaze when I look at the photos, but yesterday found me searching the garden in vain for some live insect food to sustain it.

I really didn’t plan on reading the comments following the story at Palo Alto Online, but it is hard to stop. Parents, neighbors, current and former students are discussing train speeds, school pressure, parental pressure, inability to get into AP classes, the need for a night patrol at the crossing in question, a chain link fence around the crossing, depression, and the overwhelming need for someone to talk to.

For some ultramarathoners, surgical removal of their toenails solves a painful problem. Nor will they ever encounter that pesky fungal ailment.

This afternoon seemed a good time to get rid of all the redwood tree debris from the storm last week. After the yard waste toter filled up, I was deciding which other garbage can to use when the sprinkle turned to rain. My side yard is shaded by the neighbor’s oak trees, so there was some protection. It began coming down in earnest, but nothing serious. I had just potted up some Japanese anemones and two hydrangeas too, so the rain is very welcome.

Obviously the South Bay did not get the deluge that occurred elsewhere.

For a few seconds, I inverted the cup. This is one fast spider that I did not want loose in the house. Did I mention that it’s really, really big?

For some reason, when there’s a good one elsewhere (usually not nearby), my teeth hurt. Fillings? Probably. Right now, something’s happening somewhere.

The lone ruby-throated hummingbird has been by more than a dozen times this morning, happy that I finally refreshed its nectar supply. Yesterday during the terrible storm, it refueled much more than usual.

Because we accidentally/on purpose manage to meet up at various places in the yard, I decided to give him a name. His bright magenta gorget is dazzling when the light is just right so that he sparkles. I’d like you to meet Sparky:

although you have probably seen him in earlier posts.

Sometime this morning, when I was deep in work, Sparky spotted a lady friend. When I say he’s the lone hummer, I merely mean he’s the only one that dines at the feeder. So far he has chased away everything else.

Thus began the curious courting behavior of head bobbing. The female sat quietly, but Sparky went beserk. Finally I got the camera and, sans tripod, tried to get a shot or two. He never stopped moving, and was all puffed up as well. Of course my hands weren’t steady, but then neither was he.

Next time I’ll just take movies.

Coinciding with school being let out, not a good sign. Sounds like multiple emergency vehicles up at the intersection, blaring their horns.

The back patio is still underwater, big puddles elsewhere in the yard. Big chunks of palm tree came down but no fencing, thank goodness. I put garbage cans under the roof runoff areas. No sign of a letup in rain, but gusts have diminished as earlier. Well, wait a minute. Take that back.

On Friday, I didn’t find much at the estate sale. The only things that caught my eye were the flags in pristine shape. When I held one up, someone behind me said they thought it was either the Australia or New Zealand flag. I put them back. Useful for props, but not at those prices.

Meanwhile, a family member became enamored of an ancient vise in the garage. He planned to return later with his tools to remove it.

Today was 50% off everything. Removing the vise took a lot longer than planned, so I looked around again. The flags were still there. An elderly gentleman was checking out all the smalls on the table next to me. When I asked a seller the price, he said $5 for each. That seemed very reasonable for very large fabric flags. The seller said one flag had to be New Zealand, what with the British flag in one corner and the stars. The old fellow spoke up, and said it was the Hawaii flag.

I admitted I didn’t know what the Hawaii flag looked like. In my mind I pictured something like the Hong Kong flag, a flower motif. I didn’t understand why it would feature the Union Jack. The gentleman looked around, found a packet of maps, and said, ‘Here’s a map of Hawaii, maybe there’s a flag on it.’

It wasn’t really that important, but he went to a lot of trouble spreading the map out. In his ongoing conversation with the seller, he said he knew the man who owned the house, and that he was 93 years old to the owner’s 95.

I paid for the flags, and went out to the car to wait. When the family member returned, he said none of the sellers bothered to help him, but finally a really old fellow came over and gave him assistance.

The flag in question turned out to be Australian. But thanks to a 93-year old, I now know that Britain once had political authority over Hawaii. I will probably think of him every time I pick up that flag.

Octomom, via SFGate’s Mommy files. Gimme money!

It comes in blocks, a teal-ish color. On the cover of the box, a little mouse is taking little bites on a corner of a block. Last evening I put out three - one by the compost container, one by the raised bed where I have put all the cactuses my older son keeps bringing back) and another by the apricot tree.

This morning when I went to check, two of the blocks were gone. Not chewed or nibbled at, just completely disappeared.

Raccoons maybe? A swarm of mice or rats like the ones in Ratatouille or Despereaux?

To be continued.

So I got on the phone, taking care of some business which is a long series of automated questions, at the end of which a human would come on the line and save me a trip to some office downtown where I don’t particularly want to go today. I glance out the window into the remains of the vegetable garden.

Where a woodpecker, probably the one I’ve been stalking in the front oak tree, is flitting around. Chasing it is the male, bright red head gleaming in the noon sun. I’ve never seen him before. They cling to a couple of posts, one of which holds a small wood birdhouse. Then they make their way up the posts, stopping at the birdhouse. Some sort of courting behavior is going on, lots of flying back and forth, then they land on the pyracantha bush.

Throughout all of this highly photogenic action, I am glued to the phone, unable to take one shot.

Maybe this happens more often, it’s just that my desk faces the other way. However, when I do get around to taking any pictures, there are two very large spiders resting in their jars.

It’s 46° at 7:45 a.m. Brrrrrr. Absolutely wonderful. Might have to turn the heat on early this year. Yesterday I went for an impromptu walk with an old friend in the bracing wind. It took some time to warm up since I was somewhat underdressed. Few fallen leaves, but in that neighborhood some of the ginkgo trees are female, and there were nuts underfoot.

Was that a sparrow I just saw and banished from the feeder? The kind that forced me to remove the bird food for many weeks? I’ll know by the end of the day, when and if it brings back 153 of its friends. Fingers crossed.

In a new book, Return to the Hundred Acre Wood, by David Benedictus and Mark Burgess (illustrator), an otter joins the group. Nothing like a character of the female gender to shake things up a bit.