Today the first few hours of my morning consisted of its usual routine: waking up, being mom-ish, taking pictures, going hiking with my siblings/baby in the pack, and being in a general state of awesome.
I went outside to cut some goldenrod I found and came across a three foot long black snake. Now, if you remember, we had a pretty big snake living in our house. I think it died in the attic from eating poison mice or escaped. I never showed you the scary picture I took of it trying to leave:
Anyway, this snake was not the same snake, or maybe it was, but I stared at it for a good forty seconds trying to decide whether to let it live and chance it making home in my house, or chopping it’s head off with my herb scissors. Ultimately, I chose the latter.
I’m tired of finding critters in my house. Like the garden snake I found the other day. Sorry, no picture of that. One of the reasons I loved Big Blue was because she scared all the “things” away. Sigh. Oh well. Turns out this is no country for old men. Or squeamish little girls.