One of the tasks on my to-do list for this past weekend was to pull the dead plants out of the rest of our garden. I got a lot done last weekend, but I jumped ship after my disgusting discovery of the herd of worms residing in it. However, as Mark Twain says, “Humor is tragedy plus time,” so I figured it was time to crack a few jokes and get back in the game.
Or back in the garden, as it were.
Thankfully the worm situation was not as bad as it had been the weekend before, and in no time at all I had the rest of the dead plants torn out and the dirt and mulch overturned. When I was finished I sat at the picnic table admiring my handiwork, and considered buying some mums for the fall to jazz the patio up a little bit.
A little later Matt asked if I would like to accompany him on a drive to a state gameland about 45 minutes from our house so that he could do some research for the upcoming hunting season.
Let me take a moment to explain that this is my first hunting season actually living with a hunter, and I am quickly learning that the preparation to hunt is almost as great a joy as the actual hunting is. Over the past few weeks, there have been hunting magazines arriving in our mailbox, detailed online research being conducted, and many a phone call between Matt and his dad planning their strategy.
I knew excitement had hit level 10 when I came home from work on Friday afternoon and Matt was sitting on the couch arranging his bullets in what appeared to be the male equivalent of a makeup case.
Since I love a good ride through the country, I was all in for the hunting recon trip. After I showered and got ready, I walked into the living room wearing cute black shorts and a white blouse and a pair of turquoise sandals whose time to be worn is limited because HELLO SEPTEMBER.
“You may want to bring some shoes and socks,” Matt said, “We might have to walk through cornfields.”
I went back to our room and got my feet properly outfitted while I told Matt I had no idea how much preparation was involving in hunting. “It’s like when you want to buy a new pair of shoes,” he said. “You go to the mall and look at all of the various possibilities, and then you go home and think about what you saw, and then you go back and make the commitment.”
Well now you’re speaking my language.
We set off on our adventure, but I had no idea the wilderness part of the journey was going to begin so soon. As we walked down the sidewalk to our parking lot, you will never guess what slithered across our path.
A real, live, not-a-worm, giant, long, scaly SNAKE.
I shrieked and jumped and watched it slither into our neighbor’s garden while Matt followed it saying, “now THAT is a snake!”
All I can say is that I guess my decision has been made about the mums.
My gardening career is over.
And now I'm wondering if Matt could hunt this snake as well.