Monday, June 16, 2014

That's what you get Mr. Snake!

Another short but sweet entry.

    After taking a boat ride around our pond, my husband and I rested for a while on the docks. We saw four to five bluegill about six inches long in the pond over in a corner--which was a relief because I had told all my neighbors our pond was fishless--but there was something else there as well. A 40 inch water moccasin. We've adopted the habit of keeping a weapon handy since moving into the mountains, so I reached for the .22 rifle (with it's totally cool scope), took a shot and watched the snake's body react to a direct hit. I quickly handed the rifle to my husband then went to fish my kill out of the water. 

    After poking the snake's body a half dozen times, I realized that I had only injured the reptile when it's head suddenly lifted above the water and started coming after me. Needless to say I jumped back but couldn't escape because of the barbwire fence that I crawled through to reach the snake's body blocked me. I was trapped. The steep slope of the hill was on my left, the water was on my right and the snake was straight ahead of me. The snake slithered toward me fast and there was no time to squeeze my body back through the fence I had just come through. I instinctively screamed my husband's name repeatedly. He was now beside me, but on the SAFE side of the fence; however, being my hero and protector, and without hesitation, Martin pumped the remainder of the clip into the head of the snake. After my heart returned to my chest--from being lodged in my throat--I proceeded to cut off it's head and skin it. I am now the proud owner of 40" snake skin belt. Ha! That's what you get Mr. Snake. Don't mess with my pond.

Marriage is long series of compromises...

This is just a quick entry. Profound, but short.

Marriage is a long series of compromises. Here's a good example. The previous owner of our place had a cast iron bathtub at the entrance to the driveway, next to the mailbox, which she painted red and filled with pastel colored, plastic flowers. Martin wanted to haul it away but I BEGGED him not to. I loved it. After all, it matched our red windmill, red mailbox, and Martin's red workshop door (but I agreed the plastic plants had to go!) Well, for YEARS Martin has dreamed of growing pumpkins. More than anything, he wants to give them away to kids (as in free) at Halloween. I don't care for pumpkin (except the seeds, which I roast). Martin insisted we include pumpkins in our greenhouse seedling project this year.
"Ugh, fine!" was my response.
These pics are a result of the compromise we struck. I transplanted them just this morning:-)