So, of course, naturally, I'm forced to intersect with snakes more than most people--just to steel my nerves. In fact, since this is the time of year that we see snakes dead in the street in this area, and grey, shedded snake skins delicately hanging over our tree limbs reminding us of our little slithery buddies, I had actually written down the word "snakes" today in my planner as an idea to talk about in a blog. My better judgement told me not to expose my fear to some, ahem, parties who might think it's funny to jack with my head over that, but I think it's pretty well known among the more creative of my jokester buddies, so I've already been teased pretty thoroughly about it--I don't think I'm going to be cured anytime soon.
One time, Fran and I were coming out of a party and headed to our car. I was wearing shorts and shoes with no socks. I stepped on a "belt" in the parking lot, and all of a sudden it came to life and wrapped completely around my leg--a 5-foot water moccasin who was very pissed about me stepping on its head. After I lifted my foot, it uncurled from my leg and crawled crazily across the parking lot, reversing and coming back at us (I guess once it recognized me as "that guy who is really afraid of snakes"). I just shuddered typing that story out.
Last year, Ryan was talking to Fran in the front room of our house and he just suddenly stopped talking and froze. Fran later told me she instantly knew what it was without even looking: a snake clinging to the windowscreen behind her head. They yelled for me and I came down and saw it sitting there...but it was gone by the time I was able to shove Fran out the door with a wooden spoon in her hand while I watched from inside.
She's already cornered and fought two of the damned things beside our front porch. Fran: 2, snakes: 0. Yes, my wife is a bad-ass--she'll cut you if you don't watch yourself.
So, after writing up my story about my friend Jackie this afternoon, I went downstairs to work on the yard, and damn it if there wasn't a relatively large snake sitting outside my window.
Note that the bricks are over 1 foot long...
This is right where the kids run through the yard, so I thought it would be best to kill it before my one-year-old wants to cut her teeth on it or something. In case there are any snake lovers reading, you are officially welcome to come over and get all the snakes you want and transplant them to your house...
I was going to kill it with a hoe, but I couldn't get one to come over (I guess this would be funny if it wasn't typed out).
Also, sometimes you need to exert your skills (a little in danger of overexposing Napoleon Dynamite lines again...) But I am a pretty good shot (and pretty good with a bowstaff, in case you were wondering)--my first one went down the length of the snake and pinned it to the ground. The next shot was aimed into the middle of the "snake ball". Gross, huh?
I think it was a rat snake.
Proof of my bowhunting skills:
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