Spiders and I have a tenuous relationship. As a little girl, I thought they were downright freaky. But my beloved grandmother loved to scoop up daddy long-legs and sweet talk ‘em. More afraid I’d disappoint her than I was of the nickel-sized monsters, I’d give the spiders she found chummy names and pretend to be interested. Once upon another time in Ecuador, classmates had a phobia of the little eight-legged reminders that evil has corrupted this world. In the safety of my own room, I gave Continue Reading