how 'bout those snakes?

So Liz and I were walking through the back yard, pretty motivated to watch 'The Informant" that we had rented from Redbox (beings as The Young Victoria was unavailable). All thoughts of movie and popcorn and leisure were absolutely erased when our attention was riveted on a squirming/writhing/tumbled ball of snakes. Plural. Oooh! Blech! Agh! We screamed in soprano and acted so girl-like. Unashamedly. The men folks were out golfing and we were alone in a house that was in grave peril of being invaded by this slithering horde.

What to do?

We called snake-killing males in an ever widening circle of distance from the house. We tried several attempts at snake-containment using buckets and rakes and bricks. So futile. Finally one of our brave friends showed up and promptly dispatched a number of the reptiles. He even dug up a few that had escaped into their burrow. The battle field was strewn with snake parts by the end of the episode. Did that allow us to relax and smile in relief? Not really, because we knew there were more down under the grass.

It was a subdued pair who sat and watched Matt Damon, munching some popcorn. Thoughts of snakes sneaking into the gaps in the basement windows are still making me tense.