Snake...

Yesterday, I decided to do Didgeridoo Boy the favor of pulling the monster trash can up the very big hill and to the driveway for garbage day. After that spot of fun, I went back down to the back yard to make sure the gate was closed. Where the trash can had been, I noticed something and walked right over to the spot to see what it was.

That something turned out to be a snake. Not a very big snake, and a manic Google spree turned up that he probably wasn't a venomous snake, but a snake nonetheless. A mother flippity flipping snake, that I'd just happened to walk within about three inches of - - in flip flops. There was a, "What IS that?", moment that merged seamlessly into mute panic, and I hopped on one foot while silent whistling (you know, when you purse your lips and blow in a way that nothing comes out) to the base of the stairs that lead up to the deck. I very deliberately stomped up those, got to the top, and announced, "Oh, my word, it is a mother ******* snakesnakesnake." Then I went in the house, walked straight to the bedroom, and freaked the hell out.

This morning, following a friend's recommendation, I went to Tractor Supply and purchased a large container of non-toxic snake repellant that smells very like cloves and spices. It's kind of nice, actually. And as soon as the rain has cleared, I'll jot right out and mull the back yard with it.

Didge is going to have such a fine time moving that trash can back to its home.