Relative Something

She was repotting some houseplants and pouring potting soil from a previously opened bag into one of the pots. Suddenly, Cyndie shrieked, jumped, and dropped the bag as a very long snake slithered out.

That bag of soil had been stored in the garage attached to our house. This means that the snake had been rooting around in the garage long enough to make its way up onto the lower shelf and find the bag opening to get inside.

For a better perspective of how disconcertingly long this snake was, here it is with our shadows for comparison:

Much to my dismay, it didn’t make haste to wriggle its way off into the woods. In fact, while I was sitting in the glider nearby as Cyndie worked, I suddenly noticed the snake had turned around and was making its way back toward us.

No thank you. Suddenly I was the one making haste to remove myself from the vicinity of our front door. It will be bad enough if I encounter this snake in our garage but if it somehow makes its way into the house I may be looking for a new place to live.

As far as I’m concerned, winter can’t get here fast enough. Ice-cold temperatures and oodles of snow. No bugs. No poison ivy. NO SNAKES!

In the eleven years we have lived here, I haven’t seen nearly as many snakes on our property as I have this summer.

For the record, in case you haven’t noticed, I. Do. Not. Like. Snakes.

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