Wednesday, May 18, 2005


Snakes. Are. Gross.

Now, I can't say that we killed the one we saw, because that would be against the law in Pennsylvania. But we did see one. A big one. A big discusting one. I almost stepped on it. Then I spent the next 30 minutes screaming.

Luckily Ernie was putting away the 20 foot long tree trimmer. So he cornered it. He held it down while I stood up on the front porch screaming "Don't Kill It!".

Ernie was like "What the hell do you want me to do with it?". I couldn't come up with an answer to that one. It was squirming it's way towards the house. This is not acceptable.

Against my will, I got the shovel from the back of the truck and took over the tree trimmer position. I closed my eyes and screamed while Ernie repeatedly told me "Don't look, don't look, don't look". Since I wasn't looking I have no idea what he actually did with that snake (*wink*). But when I opened my eyes it was gone.

My Hero!

I couldn't relax the remainder of the weekend. I had nightmares about snakes in the house. I was convinced there was one living in the plumbing, just waiting for one of us to be on the commode to strike. As far as I am concerned snakes are like roaches, if you see one there are a thousand more that you don't see. Just waiting to do their snake thing.

I decided that I didn't like the Country House anymore. I mean, I like having a house in the country, if only the Bears, Bobcats and Snakes would stay in the Woods. The cleared areas should be for people only. Maybe bunnies, racoons and opossums (thank you Anne for that spelling correction) can come out for a visit once in a while, turkeys too. But I didn't invite the scary animals over for tea. How rude of them to intrude on my voluntary seclusion? My in-laws have been informed that they can live at Adzentoivich Woods as long as they wish once they come back to PA. I will gladly limit my farm visits to once a month or so.

Now, I know I am over-reacting. Of course. But I am in way over my head here with this whole wilderness thing. I didn't realize I was so urbanized, but I have to admit that I am. There was nothing I wanted more than to run back to Brooklyn after the snake incident. But the telling part of the story is that I didn't. Instead, the next morning I donned my steel-toed Dairy Boots and went out to the Orchard to work. I did watch my step, but I didn't give into the fear.

Take THAT Snake-man!


anne said...


I'm sorry but that's hilarious. Especially coming after the post where you mention having snake nightmares as a child.

I had to save a snake from my cats a few months ago - my inside cats. It appears that it slid under a gap in the kitchen door looking for a warm spot. Poor fool. My cats were all "Hey! A string that moves by itself!" It wasn't too was only a little snake.

Word to the wise, catching a little live snake is much less gross than trying to take a little dead snake away form cats.

husband/snake charmer said...


I have to say after reading your blog comment and your sister's, I have to recomend that you have an MRI of your noggin'. What on Earth are you trying to do Telling her about a "SNAKE GETTING INTO THE HOUSE" either you never want to see me in PA again--which perhaps is the case and I am very bad at picking up on signals. Or you truly think you are helping.

If this is the case Dear Dear cousin. you just undid, 15 snakes are safe and good creatures websites, 2 conversations with Old man A, and hours upon hours of maritital counseling--in just 2 very short paragraphs.

We all loved the bear jester suit idea, but I have to say "true snake in the house" stories are just too much for me to overcome alone.

anne said...


Oh, pooh. Nan is perfectly capable of overcoming the snake thing. It will just take a little time - little being relative, of course. Just tell her to keep repeating this: Snake and bat good; mouse and mosquito bad.

Plus, I don't think they climb stairs. So you should be good. (If they do climb stairs, no one mention it here, ok?)

By the way, I found out that the jester bear suit might be a bad idea. Someone told me that bears are curious and might want to check into that jingling sound. Ixnay on the bells.

Also by the way, I did get to have an MRI on my noggin'. That's why I get to spend most of my days on pain killers and muscle relaxants. Woohoo!

Maybe you could get a pet mongoose. You know, like Rikki Tikki Tavi?

With much love and misguided advice,