This was exactly a year ago -- when I killed the snake with the lawn mower. And made me realize I have a problem that is not getting better, but worse.
So I was out planting in my garden when the tall grass around it kept riffling in the wind. I kept thinking snakes, so I decided to mow it. I was using the push mower and rounding the corner, when the snake reared its ugly head, I let go of the mower and ran to the patio and did my screaming gig.
The snake took up some statuesque pose and I wasn't sure if it was dead or alive. Except it seemed to have its head raised, so it was unlikely that a dead snake could do that. Or could it? I stood there, and stood there, and stood there. I don't know why. I was trying to rationalize with myself that being fearful of such a small thing was ridiculous. (I think I was being less rational and more or less BERATING myself for being such a weenie.)
So, I am thinking okay, this snake thing needs to be dealt with, when a SECOND snake slithers out from the black covering over the garden and does its S turns towards me. Seriously, ANOTHER snake? TWO SNAKES?
Suddenly I am Indiana Jones in the temple of hell with the snakes. I am sure the entire garden is seething with them. I have that tickle butt hair raising goosebump reaction and do some more screaming for good measure. WHAT THE FUCK?
That is all I can think. This is unfair! What have I done to encourage TWO snakes to attack me? (Okay, so they were actually not interested in me at all, but who cares, this is my story and I'm sticking to it!)
So both snakes end up under the lawn mower, and I run away and go into the house and tell everyone I know my bad news!
Fast forward to today. Peter and I were building a fence around the garden. Maddie went uptown and bought us sandwiches, and we sat on the patio to eat. I told Peter my snake story. He rolled his eyes and said I was ridiculous. I said fine, I don't necessarily disagree, but still, they freak me out. So then he stands up, gets a shovel, and walks toward the stone wall which is about two feet from where I am sitting, and says to me, do you want me to kill it?
Kill what?
Then I see it. A sneaky snake with its tail trailing out of a hole in the wall and its little head staring at me with its beady eyes. Taunting me. Daring me to make a stand. I am once again besieged with the thought that the place is just CRAWLING with snakes. Come on! Just stay out of my line of vision and we will both be fine. Right?
The thought of Peter killing it upsets me more than the actual snake itself watching me eat lunch (go figure) and I insist that no, I intellectually know that the snake does a lot of good and some how we all just need to get along. And then I proceeded to glance at the wall every 30 seconds as we continued with the fence. Peter remarked on it, and I said well, there is some comfort knowing that the snake is there, basking in the sun, as opposed to terrorizing me.
THEN ... and this is where it turns back into a horror movie, a small snake slithers OUT of the black covering material over the garden and peeks at us. SHIT. I had just managed to get the picture of the entire garden writhing with snakes underneath me as I planted OUT OF MY HEAD and that was really for naught, because clearly I am in a snake-infested garden from hell.
Two snakes a day is just not going to work for me!
IT IS FREAKING ME OUT!
2 comments:
Remember the snake that fell from the top of the door jam in the school house in Antrim? Perhaps it was the flying snakes that began your fear of snakes. And while I don't love snakes...does anyone? I love reading this and laughing out lout to myself!! Kinda takes that image of we think we are and realize inside all of us there is a weenie!!
Of course I remember the snake in the schoolhouse. And the one that TJ threw at me in our front yard in Bedford, AND the one that was curled up in a juniper bush when I was traipsing on the hill in Weare AND the night crawler that was in Grandpa's garden and scared the crap out of me. I remember each and every snake incident. Like it was yesterday. Oh yeah, IT WAS!
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