In a previous blog post, I wrote about how I've been bitten by more animals than you, most notably a poisonous snake. As a result, I am rather afraid of snakes to put it mildly.
So, I was not happy when we came home from the grocery store, and I saw this:
I figured our choices were:
1. Run away and never return, living the rest of our lives in Chris' car and earning a meager but satisfying living as traveling minstrels. Sorry, cats. You're on your own.
2. Find a way to get the mf-ing snake off this mf-ing door.
3. Adopt a pet mongoose and/or honey badger.
Reluctantly, I chose door #2, even though that road leads to certain death. I put on a hooded sweatshirt that was in Chris' car to cover as much exposed skin as I could. I was pretty sure that this snake was a blacksnake, one of the many non-poisonous models, but that still didn't make me in any hurry to get chomped by it.
My heart pounding with terror, I grabbed what I thought was my best weapon -- a snow broom that I use to clean snow from our cars, and knocked the snake off the door and swept (actually it was more of a slap shot) it down into the yard. The whole ordeal lasted about five seconds but trust me, they were a pretty terrifying five terrifying seconds and I felt much more macho than I actually am, afterward. It also took about 45 minutes and a beer before I finally calmed down.
Anyway, this puts a pretty big damper on my running career, since I'll never be stepping outside again, but I still might use this blog to post my increasingly insane ramblings as I adapt to the lifestyle of a hermit.
*Special thanks to Chris for the "snake oil" joke.
So, I was not happy when we came home from the grocery store, and I saw this:
("Hi. I'm in the neighborhood selling some medicinal oil that I think you'll be VERY interested in'."*)
I figured our choices were:
1. Run away and never return, living the rest of our lives in Chris' car and earning a meager but satisfying living as traveling minstrels. Sorry, cats. You're on your own.
2. Find a way to get the mf-ing snake off this mf-ing door.
3. Adopt a pet mongoose and/or honey badger.
Reluctantly, I chose door #2, even though that road leads to certain death. I put on a hooded sweatshirt that was in Chris' car to cover as much exposed skin as I could. I was pretty sure that this snake was a blacksnake, one of the many non-poisonous models, but that still didn't make me in any hurry to get chomped by it.
My heart pounding with terror, I grabbed what I thought was my best weapon -- a snow broom that I use to clean snow from our cars, and knocked the snake off the door and swept (actually it was more of a slap shot) it down into the yard. The whole ordeal lasted about five seconds but trust me, they were a pretty terrifying five terrifying seconds and I felt much more macho than I actually am, afterward. It also took about 45 minutes and a beer before I finally calmed down.
Anyway, this puts a pretty big damper on my running career, since I'll never be stepping outside again, but I still might use this blog to post my increasingly insane ramblings as I adapt to the lifestyle of a hermit.
*Special thanks to Chris for the "snake oil" joke.
We do have a treadmill. You can post about your adventures in treadmilling. :)
ReplyDeleteThe treadmill had a bear hibernating on it. I can't use that, either. Nature sucks!
DeleteMy son had a red and white corn snake (about 2.5 feet long) that got loose last summer. It was found chillin' in the corner of our 80 year old neighbor's dining room, two doors down. How I found out? They sought help from another neighbor who was holding the snake in a vented tupperware container. He was yelling "Get me a marker! I am writing DNR on my chest." They were waiting for EMTs to arrive because the snake bit him as he was removing it from their dining room. I wonder how you might have reacted if the snake was in your house!
ReplyDeleteWe've had them in our basement and the ceiling above our bedroom and my response is to freak the hell out.
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