Wednesday, June 19, 2002
We have a snake that has made a home in dad's fountain/flower pot arrangement. We think its eating his frog chorus. I found it the other day. It had apparently gone off for an early-afternoon slither around the flower bed, and was returning to its evening abode when I happened to catch it winding its way up the extension cord to the fountain mechanism. It made a beeline to the largest flower pot...I can only assume its been living there for quite some time. That might explain the mysterious dissapearance of several of dad's goldfish. I went inside to tell mother not to go on the patio. She ran outside screaming, found a hose with a spray nozzle, and started deluging the flower pots. The snake beat a hasty retreat, and thirty minutes later I managed to coax the hose out of my mothers death grip. She doesn't like snakes. Not even cute mint green and black striped garden snakes. Not even large worms. After she left, I watched the snake casually slide back over into it's favorite pot. Now my mother yells at the flower pot in her spare time.
My sister and I have moved. To the outbuilding. Mother has decided that we are far to messy to be living in the house while she is trying to show it, so we have been effectively banished. It's not a bad arrangement, if Andrea and I can keep from killing each other for the next 6 weeks. She's a rather verbal morning person -- needless to say I am not; actually I'm a rather verbal night person...15 minutes before I pass out completely. That's the hard part about living alone. I have to talk to myself for 15 minutes before I go to sleep. Or I could just use the fact that I'm already awake and verbal to pray. On second thought however, even though my mouth is working at that point, my brain rarely every is. I think I'll leave off the praying to when I'm more coherent.