Spiders are a definite 'no-no', particularly those enormous ones that scamper across the carpet in the Autumn evenings and disappear under the furniture - and lurk.
And then there are those funny ones with a round, ball-like body and long spindly legs. When I was a child we only had an outside loo and it was at the bottom of the garden. These spindly spiders used to hang about in there and I was pretty scared stiff of them then.
And then there are ear-wigs. During the war we had evacuees in our Lincolnshire village - they came from Leeds and were very street-wise (we really were country bumpkins in those days). In a lot of ways they perked up our little village school no end, but there was one particularly horrible little boy called Harold Heller (yes, his name has stuck in my memory). He used to gather up handfuls of earwigs from inside the black-out curtains and chase the girls around the playground with them. I can still raise a shudder at the thought.
But the one thing that still gives me the eebie-jeebies although I am a grown woman (as an old headmistress used to say when I was a junior member of staff and didn't know how to change a plug!) is the Daddy Long Legs. At the first sign of a Daddy Long Legs you know that Autumn is on its way. And the first sign occurred this morning, when one arrived on the inside of our bedroom window sill. Outside and I could have viewed it objectively - but inside immediately suggested to me that tonight when I am in bed it might make a b-line for my face and I might feel those dangly long legs across my cheek.
Time to summon the farmer to my aid.
I heard on the radio the other day that 'they' are expecting a plague of the wretched things this year. I shall be constantly on my guard.