Things to do before I die: Handle a tarantula

We went to the London Butterfly House yesterday after spending most of Saturday and Sunday morning lazing around enjoying the bizarre sensation of warmth (ie. from the sun). It was that or go to the pub to watch Australia get beaten by Brazil in the soccer (is there anybody out there who really thought we had a snowflake's chance?). Anyway, I am SO glad we did, it was a magical afternoon spent chasing elusive butterflies for the perfect shot. There was one in particular which obviously had attention-deficit disorder: it refused to sit still for even a second to be photographed. Naturally, it was the most spectacularly big, irridescent blue butterfly in the whole place.

The boyfriend came along to "keep me happy" in his words, (his sincerity is lovely to behold!), and ended up taking more pictures than me. Also, as you may have guessed by now, we got to hold a tarantula! There was a very sweet old bloke doing demos in the insect house, and as soon as I saw that big, hairy spider I thought, "this is it. I have to do it now or I may never have the opportunity again". For the remainder of his talk, I was mentally preparing myself for it. And I have to say, the sensation of its gossamer-light feet on the palm of my hand was quite... lovely! Not remotely hairy. And of course, because I had done it, my boyfriend had to do it too. I swear this is me in the photo, it was just a hugely unflattering angle for my chin(s):

Her name is Chile Rose, and she really isn't as scary as she looks.