Now about catching tarantulas...
Materials: cups of water, machete, sardine tin, and two sticks.
Find some holes in the ground (perhaps after a nice soaking rain) and pour water in gently until you see movement. Then carefully insert the machete deep into the ground at an angle blocking off the spider's escape. When it scuttles out, grab the creature between two sticks and leave it under an overturned tin to await the capture of its opponent. You weren't planning on hunting tarantulas without setting them to fight at the end, were you? (Cumpulsory shriek of inquisitive scientific revolted frightened sadistic pleasure).

How do you feed mangoes to a cow, you might ask?
Why, in the same manner that you feed them to yourself, of course!
In much the same manner, except you feed them to yourself first, and when chomping down to the seed, peels a-scatter, juice running down your chin and between your fingers, pesky fibres caught between your teeth, and with another mango certainly on its way, down from the tree where your partner in crime is rustling about-- that is when you relinquish the pre-masticated mango to the ruminent creature ruminating with its reumy eyes at the difference between the fleshes of fruit and hand, which it rasps away with the plane of its rough tongue into its mysterious mouth full of bovine carpentry tools.
Moooango season.

Corn outside my window grows quite quickly. And now that I am noticing-- another grass is growing quite quickly. It started out as rather a small grassy pom, with fine blades, and I was pleased to see such a healthy grass in a land that knows no pasture. But it has grown startlingly large, but more so, it has grown wider. I mean the individual blades are magnified in a menancing sort of manner. I hesitate to touch it for fear it will cause me bodily harm. I can only hope the garden that Angel and I planted will grow so astonishingly well.