An Onslaught

Dear Grace,

If it makes you feel better at all, almost weekly I am asked by fellow teachers, administrative staff, or students when I am planning to have a baby. I can’t decide if they ask because I look pregnant and they’re waiting with baited breath for me to admit it (too many baked goods myself), or if it’s simply my turn. Since the Spring 2016 semester, there have been four new babies born amongst varying staff members and we’re waiting for a couple more to be born in the coming year. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that there was something in the water at our high school, but I am pretty sure the water fountains only contain the mono virus.

But while you’re off gallivanting around polishing acorns, collecting mushrooms, and tapping trees for maple syrup we are fending off an onslaught of snakes. Okay, not snakes plural, just one singular snake. A few days ago, I stepped outside into the brisk 65 degree morning to go for a run/waddle around our expansive subdivision and there was a snake just curled up on our shady sidewalk. I tossed a rock from our gravel yard at the fellow to see if he would just slither away, but he barely moved. I could tell he wasn’t a rattlesnake, so I wasn’t too worried and figured he would find his own way to his home once I got back from my run. But no, he was still there when I got back. And he was still there when Abe and I went out that afternoon. And then the next day. And the next. Turns out Stevie the Snake (we got so used to seeing him that he deserved a name) just needed a shady spot to “give up the ghost and join the choir invisible”. Yes, we had been living with a dead snake on our sidewalk for about four days. I am really good with petimg_1222s. Abe decided that the best (easiest) burial would be to just scoot him into the bushes that separate us from our neighbors. Abe gave Stevie a scoot with his crutch that was akin to Zeus hurling a thunderbolt, and Stevie went far beyond the bushes a few feet to our right but up tumbling through the air landing with a ceremonious plop on our neighbor’s front steps. We looked at each other in horror and then fled to our car (Abe is quite a quick limper as it turns out). I think we are going to win some sort of neighborly award fairly soon.

Now you know the proper procedure to deal with snakes:

  • Step One: Ignore the situation until no longer possible.
  • Step Two: Make your husband be the one to deal with it.
  • Step Three: Make it your neighbor’s problem.
  • Step Four: Secretly spy on your neighbors to see how long it will take for them to notice the dead snake on their front porch.

I am also certain that these steps can be applied to many an unpleasant situation.

Much love,

Millie

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