When the lure of a freebie spins a nasty web of its own

It’s the most magical time of the year in our suburb – a heap of houses have put their bulky goods out on the street for collection.

Part of the magic is just seeing what other people have in their homes.

It’s always reassuring to realise your neighbour’s couch is just as ugly as yours.

The other part of the magic is the free stuff.

There are many of life’s great mysteries I have yet to unravel and just why a bulky waste clean out is so exciting is one of them.

But I can tell you my new snake plant in a lovely glazed ceramic pot emanates an aura of magic and smug satisfaction that’s beyond any price tag.

In fairness, free finds don’t always come for nothing.

Take husband’s spectacular find of a complete weight-lifting rig six months ago.

The rig, complete with bar and weights, would cost more than $1000 secondhand on Facebook marketplace. It was a steal.

He gleefully brought it home, miraculously fitting the entire thing in the car, and set it up in our spare room.

We congratulated ourselves on how much we would save on gym fees.

We figured we were about six weeks of protein shakes away from becoming indistinguishable from Arnie.

Instead we were plunged into a war in our own home.

It’s important to note at this point that husband is Scottish, so when he saw a couple of tiny spiders on the rig he wasn’t too worried.

Yours truly, however, saw the telltale red lightning bolt on their bums.

Calmly, so as not to alarm the troop, I informed husband it would be best if he got the bug spray immediately.

We gassed the room, closed the door and blocked the gap with towels.

Over the next several weeks waves of redbacks would emerge overnight from the rig.

We realised they’d laid eggs inside the metal supports. Bug sprays and bug bombs would kill one generation just before the next emerged.

The campaign to rid our home of them took its toll on both of us.

Every time a hair brushed the back of my neck at night I’d have to turn the light on to inspect for any arachnid intruders.

Finally, sleep-deprived and terrified, husband came up with a plan.

“I’m going to hit them with a flamethrower,” he announced calmly over breakfast one morning.

I’ll admit I was skeptical, mostly because we don’t own a flamethrower.

But at this point it felt like we were living in the second half of Starship Troopers.

I believed we were going to lose the whole house to the arachnids and I was ready to accept any proposal that bought us some time.

Husband took apart the entire rig, piece by piece.

He took each piece into the backyard, and with a can of bug spray, a lighter, and repressed teenage delinquency he torched the thing inside out and top to bottom.

It was a massacre. Dozens of dead and dying spiders stumbled out of the rig, crisped eggs behind them.

It’s been six months since the rig was reinstalled in the spare room, and we’ve spied no redbacks since.

But now we know even free things come at a price.

Canberra households are eligible for one free bulky waste collection of up to two cubic metres each financial year. You can book your collection here.

Original Article published by Zoe Cartwright on Region Illawarra.