Crazy4art4u is officially moved as of today. You will now find me at my new blog http://www.elizabethstudio54.blogspot.com with a whole new look. Please join me in the next step in my continuing adventure of art and life in the country!
Well, just after writing such a soothing post yesterday discussing the wonder of mother nature in all her glory I had a temporary moment of insanity, having been lulled by the kinder and gentler of her nature. Walking to the kitchen from my studio (a.k.a. spare closet sized bedroom) not long after putting up yesterday's post I stopped dead in my tracks..."no, surely not, it can't be...but yes I fear it is true, it is most certainly a snake in my hallway just in front of me!" Yelling loudly for DH to come on his white steed to rescue me, I yell almost incomprehensibly, "snake, snake, it's a snake!" Much to my dismay DH wakes from a peaceful nap in the rocking chair on our back porch and groggily says, "I will do a lot of things for you but I DON"T DO SNAKES (petrified of them it turns out)!" OK, so the task has been thrust upon my shoulders. I summon up all of the courage I can calling on the help of all female goddesses in the UNIVERSE and yell to DH to give me an oven mitt. He throws one to me, lest he get an inch closer to said snake who has now slithered behind DH's desk and is trying desperately to blend in with the snake-like jumble of cords. I proceed with my very distasteful task of playing tag for the better part of 10 minutes back and forth between the hallway to our bedroom ( I did have presence of mind to close the door), and the living room by DH's desk. One problem I quickly realize is snakes apparently have very very good eye site, and another being that said hallway has a lot of my art supplies stored in bins and the like - lots of snake hide-a-ways, much to my dismay again. As I begin peeling boxes out of the hallway frantically chasing this not so small intruder as it slithers behind box after box trying to get away, anywhere but here with this crazed human with the oven mitt on her hand! I corner it once but it is amazingly fast and as I jut out frantically to grab it all I manage is its tail, not the best part to grab, and I definitely don't want to squish it so escape #1. Next I fall over a box and end up almost eye to eye with my slithery intruder, "this is not good" as snake slithers to the other end of the hallway hiding behind yet another box. I run around my DH's desk to the other end where the snake is lunging madly only to watch it turn with lightning speed and slither back down the hallway the other direction. "Aha, now I've got you," as it is now fully exposed and stretched out almost it's entire not so insignificant length. I run once again around to the other end of the hallway lunging again with my oven mitted hand and, "success, I got you - pew what on earth is that smell, great a dead mouse is in the hallway," mentally noting to self I will have to come back and look for that next. Yelling to DH to open the front door I run through the house arm extended as far as possible in front of me snake wriggling frantically trying to get away, I run out into the front yard not even noticing the gravel from our walkway cutting into my bare feet as I run to the edge of the meadow and unceremoniously drop said snake on the ground. I turn and run back into the house so fast I don't even see which way the snake decided to slither. Once back inside, out of breath and admittedly a little shaken I smell that odor again and realize it is coming from my oven mitt, yuck snakes must emit a distress smell or this particular snake just stinks. I also suddenly realize that the mitt my DH tossed me was my brand new mitt from a dear friend who brought it back from Maine for me 2 years ago. I have coveted that mitt, protected it AND NEVER USED IT BEFORE! Now I have carried a stinky snake with it *Sigh* Oh well, nothing else to do - it must go in the wash. Life in the country with all the beauty and harshness of mother nature...
Everyone have a wonderful, snake-free day!
Ciao for now,