I need to clean out our garage in a way that can best be described as OMG JUST DO IT ALREADY. It's bad. Very bad. We're talking about the sort of situation that lands people on reality TV, except with more dead stinkbugs and embarrassment.
This morning I set out to do exactly that. Armed with long pants and an old pair of gardening gloves to protect me from the dead stinkbug army, I walked out to our driveway and began to assess the situation. And then I decided there were about 37 other things that also need done. Procrastination is my superpower.
I managed to get through about 6 of those things before everything went haywire. And by haywire, I mean I WAS ATTACKED BY A GIANT SNAKE. ASDLFKJALKDFJGALSKDFJ.
It's possible I completely freaked out.
Twitter had the pleasure of hearing the basic details of the encounter, but you are so lucky! You get ALL of the details! HUZZAH!
I don't know exactly what I was doing when I was attacked. All I remember for certain is that one second I was standing by the pond being a good little pond keeper and the next there was a snake. FOUR FREAKING INCHES FROM MY FOOT.
Words were uttered as I tried to figure out what to do. The husband is generally responsible for all issues involving things with more or less legs than me, but he was at work. He has something like fourteeen-eleventy-seventeen vacation days and today was not one of them. OF COURSE. Mind you, I know what he would have done. He would have picked up that snake with his bare hands and walked around with it, oohing and aahing over every little thing it did. I know because that's EXACTLY what he did when a snake was found at our wedding rehearsal.
I'm off track. Sorry.
The husband was at work and not due home for hours. USELESS TO ME. I couldn't just leave the snake there because it was very obviously hoping to grab some snacky snacks and there were two tasty looking frogs hanging out just a few feet away from the snake.
"OK, frogs. I'll save you. YOU BETTER APPRECIATE THIS," I mumbled.
"Hey, snake. You need to leave," I said as I pulled out my phone to take a photograph of the offending slithery thing.
It didn't obey.
"Don't make me move you," I told the snake.
It didn't budge.
"Crap," I said.
OK, I admit it. I might have said something a wee bit stronger than that, but you get the idea.
"I HAVE A NET AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT," I yelled at the snake. I was lying, of course. I was totally afraid to use it. I just figured that if I yelled a little bit, maybe a neighbor would hear the commotion and come rescue me.
No such luck.
I trudged around to the other side of the pond to grab the net, all the while keeping an eye on the snake. I didn't want it to attack me when I had my back turned.
With the net in hand, I slowly approached the snake. Then I remembered that I'm a blogger and a photographer, so it's my duty to get high resolution photographic evidence of these sorts of shenanigans.
"You stay right there," I told the snake as I dashed into the house to grab my camera.
It moved while I was gone. al;ksdjf;alksdjfl;kaj.
Fortunately(?), I was able to see the tip of its tail beneath a rock. I wasn't about to lean over and touch the rock that had been soiled by icky snake skin, so I grabbed the net, extended the handle as far as possible (10 feet!), and tried nudging the rock from afar.
No dice. The rock didn't budge, nor did the snake.
So I tried again. And again. And again. At one point I realized I would have to shorten the net handle so I could have better control. I was going to have to move closer to the snake. And then I realized that my best bet would be to flip the rock over, but it would land directly on top of my favorite tulips.
I love those tulips, but I realized they would have to be sacrificed.
A moment of silence for the tulips, please . . .
I flipped the rock and there was the snake, all curled up in a ball and glaring at me.
What's that? That's not a very good photo? Yeah, well, THAT is what happens when you hold your camera out at arm's length and blindly snap away. It's not like I was going to get any closer than I had to.
You probably can't tell from the photo, but that snake was as big as a house. The White House, in fact. It was HUGE. And by HUGE I mean it was probably two feet long. SHUT UP. It's not like any of you volunteered to rush out to my house and rescue me from the snake!
(An aside -- all the twitter people who suggested that I forget the net and get a gun instead? +1 for you. I like how you think.)
I battled and fought and wrestled with that snake until it FINALLY went into the net (or it slithered in on its own free will...I'm not telling).
And then I escorted that SOB to the field behind our house before setting it free.
So, uh, don't walk back there. There's a snake in there somewhere.
Because I know you're curious, let me just show you how helpful the dogs were throughout the whole situation.
They were hiding under the bush we call the "Tick Bush" because (this reasoning is going to shock and amaze you) ... it attracts ticks. I personally like how Penny was rolling around under the bush, so as to be sure to pick up as many ticks as possible. alsdkfja;lksdjf.
As for the frogs whose lives I saved?
The ungrateful little snots didn't so much as twitch the whole time. No panic. No gratitude when I saved them. NOTHING.
Those damn frogs better spend the night spelling out, "Thank You, Michelle" with diamonds and gold in our yard tonight. They owe me AT LEAST that much.