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I think I am quite a brave person. I don’t get scared easily.

I am not claustrophobic, I have caved for 20 years. I am not scared of heights. I have abseilled 760 ft., and climbed up the rope again.

But the one thing I don’t like are creepy crawlies – especially caterpillars. If I see one my blood runs cold and I have to look away. It is a phobia.

If I was a spy and I was captured, they could rip my fingernails out and I wouldn’t talk – but all they had to do was show me a photo of a caterpillar (big green ‘juicy’ ones are the worst) and I would sing like a canary.

So I was out on Sunday with my 8 yr. old grandson Mackenzie and he found one. We had spent all day on the moors, walked miles and miles and we were heading for home and he spotted it on the ground.

Being 8, he picked it up (showed it to me – urgh) and carried it along in his hands. He wanted to take it home and show his mum! I didn’t want him to know that I had a phobia about them (he wanted me to stroke it), and he was upset when I told him he wasn’t going to bring it in the car.

Fortunately, after a couple of milesΒ he dropped his little friend in the long grass (I didn’t help him look for it), and I breathed a little sigh of relief. We didn’t find another one πŸ™‚

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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