Today we've had some extreme outdoor adventures. It started when Michael chopped down a tree that hit a bird's nest and knocked out two babies as it fell. The baby birds were so tiny they didn't even have feathers...so, of course we attempted to be rescue-rangers and put the nest and baby birds back in the tree (while wearing gloves in the hopes that Mama bird would come back).But things quickly took a turn...we went from rescuers to murderers!
Paige and I were walking through the landscaping trying to decide where to plants some things. I thought I heard something move under the landscaping fabric by my foot, but just to make sure I stomped in that area again, and that's when I saw a snake coil up about 3 inches away from my flip-flopped foot. Yep, I was terrified to say the least. So me, being the great mom that I am, pushed Paige out of the landscaping--I'm not talking about a gentle nudge to get her out of the way, I'm talking about a two-handed football-style shove--and started yelling at her to go get Michael. Things quickly progressed from bad to worse when Michael showed up with a flat-ended shovel as our first line of defense again this monster. He walked up and handed ME the shovel. I politely handed it back and asked him to kill the snake, which set into motion the chain of events that looked like a snake-slaying circus act in our front yard...
Michael tried his best to chop the snake's head off with the dull shovel, but he hit the wrong end, simply trapping it by its tail. Boy did that make the snake mad. It started thrashing around under the landscaping fabric...scary! Michael and I were both at a loss for what to do, so we came up with the idea that I'd go get the pick and hack it in half near its head. I returned with the pick and tried to figure out my best plan of attack. I've never been particularly good at aiming at things (my darts never come close to hitting the dart board, I usually miss the entire ball while playing pool, hitting a baseball is a major feat for me, etc), so naturally, I missed the snake during the attempted decapitation. However, I did chop a hole in the landscape fabric. The snake's head shot through the hole like a cobra, and it started striking at me with a vengance...which set Paige off screaming like a maniac, "Mama, get back, get back!!" Now I was really flustered! I was shaking like a leaf and could barely hold the pick, and there was no way Michael could let go of the shovel to help me (since he had the snake pinned down by the tail). In my head I was planning what to do when I got struck by this snake (1. Find a way to kill it without making my blood pump any faster than it already was. 2. Put the snake in a bag. 3. Get to the hospital FAST. 4. Give the snake to the doctor, and tell the him I needed anti-venom...yes, I thought it was poisonous, and yes, at the moment I actually believed that Siloam Springs Memorial would have the ability to make anti-venom). Thankfully, Michael was thinking with some sense, and he told me to hold the snake's head down with the pick turned sideways so he could chop it up. I followed his directions as closely as I could while trebling uncontrollably. And whew, it worked! Disaster averted. Mission accomplished, the snake was dead. We immediately ran in the house and looked the snake up on the internet. It wasn't the deadly pit viper that I feared, it was harmless Orange-striped Ribbonsnake.
I was so flustered from the whole event that I couldn't do anymore yard work. Laundry seems like a safer alternative... :)
