• This brown Spotted Orbweaver (Neoscona crucifera) was making an intricate web under a lamp. After catching and eating a moth for dinner, the orbweaver collected the large web by rolling it into a ball and retreated to a secluded position to sleep until the next night.

    #SpottedOrbweaver #Orbweaver #NeosconaCrucifera #Spider #Spooky #Entomology #AnimalBiology #Biology
    This brown Spotted Orbweaver (Neoscona crucifera) was making an intricate web under a lamp. After catching and eating a moth for dinner, the orbweaver collected the large web by rolling it into a ball and retreated to a secluded position to sleep until the next night. #SpottedOrbweaver #Orbweaver #NeosconaCrucifera #Spider #Spooky #Entomology #AnimalBiology #Biology
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  • NOW PLAYING ON PROPHETIC REWIND
    Kim Clement’s Dream - Putin & A Spider Web
    https://www.houseofdestiny.org/watch-kimtv/
    NOW PLAYING ON PROPHETIC REWIND Kim Clement’s Dream - Putin & A Spider Web https://www.houseofdestiny.org/watch-kimtv/
    WWW.HOUSEOFDESTINY.ORG
    Kim.TV | House of Destiny
    Watch Kim Clement content here at Kim.TV and relive prophetic moments, worship and encouragement.
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  • Look out friends!

    https://www.foxweather.com/earth-space/joro-spiders-invasive-southeast-florida
    Look out friends! 😳😂 https://www.foxweather.com/earth-space/joro-spiders-invasive-southeast-florida
    WWW.FOXWEATHER.COM
    Parachuting Joro spiders expected to spread across Florida, Southeast
    A large spider native to East Asia is expected to spread throughout the Southeast, including Florida, according to a study from Clemson University.
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  • “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” ~ A Mama’s Mantra
    When that one pink line turns to two, she looks down with gurgling excitement before the panic sets in and she starts thinking…“𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When the contractions are coming hard and fast, rippling through every ounce of her being… she screams in her mind, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When the doctor releases her from the hospital with only a test of how well she knows how to fasten a car seat… she whispers to herself, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When she’s fumbling in the middle of night to feed and sooth a fussy babe after an exhausting day that she can barely keep her eyes open… she groans, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they take their first steps, stuff fistfuls of food (or whatever they get their hands on) in their mouth, climb on the coffee table… she sighs, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they strap on their Spiderman backpack and head out for their first day of school… she tearfully cries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they decide training wheels are for babies and they take off down the street, wobbling this way and that… She worries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When she sits on the sidelines of their first practice and watch another parent train, teach, reprimand, and build them… she frets, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they want to have their first sleepover away from home, out of reach… She gnaws her nails as she thinks, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they walk through the doors of middle school, discover social media, pick and choose friends… she bites her tongue and says, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When she sees a text that hints of a romantic relationship… she holds her breath while thinking, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they take the driver’s seat for the first time and she presses her right foot down on an invisible pedal, internally screaming, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    And when their messy bedroom that used to drive her mad is suddenly packed up and emptied out… she clutches the doorframe with tears in her eyes and cries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    Friends… I know how it feels.
    We’re never ready for that next step.
    Because we’ve never been there.
    Never known what it’s like to let the most vulnerable, the most precious piece of our heart walk out into the world.
    It’s scary as hell.
    But.
    If we’ve done our job.
    Even if we aren’t ready.
    They are.
    They are because we’ve made them so.
    It’s a wild ride, mama.
    Ready or not…
    Here it comes .
    Words by: Raise Her Wild with Mehr Lee
    “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” ~ A Mama’s Mantra When that one pink line turns to two, she looks down with gurgling excitement before the panic sets in and she starts thinking…“𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When the contractions are coming hard and fast, rippling through every ounce of her being… she screams in her mind, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When the doctor releases her from the hospital with only a test of how well she knows how to fasten a car seat… she whispers to herself, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When she’s fumbling in the middle of night to feed and sooth a fussy babe after an exhausting day that she can barely keep her eyes open… she groans, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they take their first steps, stuff fistfuls of food (or whatever they get their hands on) in their mouth, climb on the coffee table… she sighs, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they strap on their Spiderman backpack and head out for their first day of school… she tearfully cries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they decide training wheels are for babies and they take off down the street, wobbling this way and that… She worries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When she sits on the sidelines of their first practice and watch another parent train, teach, reprimand, and build them… she frets, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they want to have their first sleepover away from home, out of reach… She gnaws her nails as she thinks, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they walk through the doors of middle school, discover social media, pick and choose friends… she bites her tongue and says, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When she sees a text that hints of a romantic relationship… she holds her breath while thinking, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they take the driver’s seat for the first time and she presses her right foot down on an invisible pedal, internally screaming, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” And when their messy bedroom that used to drive her mad is suddenly packed up and emptied out… she clutches the doorframe with tears in her eyes and cries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” Friends… I know how it feels. We’re never ready for that next step. Because we’ve never been there. Never known what it’s like to let the most vulnerable, the most precious piece of our heart walk out into the world. It’s scary as hell. But. If we’ve done our job. Even if we aren’t ready. They are. They are because we’ve made them so. It’s a wild ride, mama. Ready or not… Here it comes ♥️. Words by: Raise Her Wild with Mehr Lee
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  • “The same people accusing Trump voters of subverting democracy are the ones who cheated in every election since the 1960s, lied to get us into half a dozen stupid wars, created Covid in a lab, and then covered that up. You are free to tell them to STFU” — Peachy Keenan

    https://www.theburningplatform.com/2024/01/12/poison-spiders-at-the-center-of-the-web/
    “The same people accusing Trump voters of subverting democracy are the ones who cheated in every election since the 1960s, lied to get us into half a dozen stupid wars, created Covid in a lab, and then covered that up. You are free to tell them to STFU” — Peachy Keenan https://www.theburningplatform.com/2024/01/12/poison-spiders-at-the-center-of-the-web/
    WWW.THEBURNINGPLATFORM.COM
    Poison Spiders at the Center of the Web
    Guest Post by Jim Kunstler “The same people accusing Trump voters of subverting democracy are the ones who cheated in every election since the 1960s, lied to get us into half a dozen stupid wars, c…
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  • “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” ~ A Mama’s Mantra
    When that one pink line turns to two, she looks down with gurgling excitement before the panic sets in and she starts thinking…“𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When the contractions are coming hard and fast, rippling through every ounce of her being… she screams in her mind, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When the doctor releases her from the hospital with only a test of how well she knows how to fasten a car seat… she whispers to herself, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When she’s fumbling in the middle of night to feed and sooth a fussy babe after an exhausting day that she can barely keep her eyes open… she groans, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they take their first steps, stuff fistfuls of food (or whatever they get their hands on) in their mouth, climb on the coffee table… she sighs, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they strap on their Spiderman backpack and head out for their first day of school… she tearfully cries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they decide training wheels are for babies and they take off down the street, wobbling this way and that… She worries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When she sits on the sidelines of their first practice and watch another parent train, teach, reprimand, and build them… she frets, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they want to have their first sleepover away from home, out of reach… She gnaws her nails as she thinks, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they walk through the doors of middle school, discover social media, pick and choose friends… she bites her tongue and says, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When she sees a text that hints of a romantic relationship… she holds her breath while thinking, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    When they take the driver’s seat for the first time and she presses her right foot down on an invisible pedal, internally screaming, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    And when their messy bedroom that used to drive her mad is suddenly packed up and emptied out… she clutches the doorframe with tears in her eyes and cries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.”
    Friends… I know how it feels.
    We’re never ready for that next step.
    Because we’ve never been there.
    Never known what it’s like to let the most vulnerable, the most precious piece of our heart walk out into the world.
    It’s scary as hell.
    But.
    If we’ve done our job.
    Even if we aren’t ready.
    They are.
    They are because we’ve made them so.
    It’s a wild ride, mama.
    Ready or not…
    Here it comes .
    Words by: Raise Her Wild with Mehr Lee
    “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” ~ A Mama’s Mantra When that one pink line turns to two, she looks down with gurgling excitement before the panic sets in and she starts thinking…“𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When the contractions are coming hard and fast, rippling through every ounce of her being… she screams in her mind, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When the doctor releases her from the hospital with only a test of how well she knows how to fasten a car seat… she whispers to herself, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When she’s fumbling in the middle of night to feed and sooth a fussy babe after an exhausting day that she can barely keep her eyes open… she groans, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they take their first steps, stuff fistfuls of food (or whatever they get their hands on) in their mouth, climb on the coffee table… she sighs, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they strap on their Spiderman backpack and head out for their first day of school… she tearfully cries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they decide training wheels are for babies and they take off down the street, wobbling this way and that… She worries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When she sits on the sidelines of their first practice and watch another parent train, teach, reprimand, and build them… she frets, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they want to have their first sleepover away from home, out of reach… She gnaws her nails as she thinks, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they walk through the doors of middle school, discover social media, pick and choose friends… she bites her tongue and says, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When she sees a text that hints of a romantic relationship… she holds her breath while thinking, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” When they take the driver’s seat for the first time and she presses her right foot down on an invisible pedal, internally screaming, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” And when their messy bedroom that used to drive her mad is suddenly packed up and emptied out… she clutches the doorframe with tears in her eyes and cries, “𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.” Friends… I know how it feels. We’re never ready for that next step. Because we’ve never been there. Never known what it’s like to let the most vulnerable, the most precious piece of our heart walk out into the world. It’s scary as hell. But. If we’ve done our job. Even if we aren’t ready. They are. They are because we’ve made them so. It’s a wild ride, mama. Ready or not… Here it comes ♥️. Words by: Raise Her Wild with Mehr Lee
    0 Comments 0 Shares 4103 Views