OK, At Least Beechos Aren’t Poisonous

I guess we’re going to have a lot of entries about snakes. But I guess as long as we’re able to make those entries, we’re all good.

Yesterday was our closest call with one of these slippery little slitherers. Up until now on our property we’ve only seen creatures already dead or discovered by someone else. But yesterday, snuggled up right against our threshold in a nice little spiral under the three legs of an old brass candle stand was a venomous snake. It was right where Wilder and I had been running in and out and where Chris had set the compost and was cleaning up some some coffee grounds. He was very calm when he saw it, so much so that I thought he was kidding when he said, “Oh my god, there’s a poisonous snake here.” Hmmm? What did you say? Shut up! Our snake-identifier chart leaves a bit open to interpretation, so we still disagree whether or not it was a hog-nosed pit viper or a tropical rattlesnake (of course Chris took a picture of it before killing it, but that hasn’t helped clear things up). One thing is for sure, that little f*%#er’s head was still moving 5 minutes after Chris decapitated it. No WAY! Medusa!!! Chris severed its head with his trusty machete and then put the specimen in a plastic bag for show and tell. Its jaws were wide and still jerking in search of our flesh despite the head’s separation from its body. Aaaaahhhh!!!! No wonder they say to bury the head separate from the body; I’m sure it would reattach itself and haunt generations of our progeny. Worse yet, it would get us first while we slept peacefully in seeming paradise. Oh my gawd, I am so glad we moved here. This is so fun! The scariest thing to me is that this snake was no more than a pencil in diameter and length. When I think of snakes, I like to think of them as thick, large, obvious creatures, you know?

Since they’re not so obvious, we’ve started to take even more precautions: Wilder’s toy baskets have been thinned out, our duvet cover has been removed, all of our shoes are turned upside down, and every morning, the first one up takes a flashlight and does a “snake check” under the cupboards and cushions, in-between shelves, and around the outside of the house. Again, it’s more about awareness than fear (though we’ve got a healthy dose of it). Our neighbor “peeshaws” the little pit vipers and says, “Oh, they’ll hurt, but they won’t kill ya.” His perspective makes me feel a bit more at ease, but I’d really rather not find out if it’s true.