Snakes on the Brain - February 18, 2017
I asked my husband, Laur, the other day, on our evening walk, “Do you have a morbid fear of snakes?” He thought about it for a minute and replied, “No, I don’t. I’m not crazy about them but I’m not phobic either. Why do you ask?”
The fact that he had to ask underscores how lightly he takes the ever-present snake threat. Unless you’re in Ireland, there are snakes out there somewhere. There were a few things that had notched up my usual snake trepidation that evening. First off, it’s starting to get warmer here in AZ, so our hibernating little rattlesnake friends are starting to stir.
Secondly, the lights were off temporarily on the section of the street we were walking on. Laur had his trusty flashlight out, but it’s not a floodlight. Every bump I walked over felt like it might be my last.
And most likely the worst culprit, was our afternoon chat with friends. Don’t get me wrong. The friends are awesome, but the lads got to talking about their experiences with snakes in South Asia when they were in the military in the “Nam” years.
Adam (not his real name) talked about walking along a bridge and noting how the rail alternated from being wood, to something softer. It was only after he crossed the bridge that he realized a python had wrapped itself along the railing and he had been giving it a nice pat down.
Everet (not his real name either) described walking a field with his platoon fanned out, looking for_____? Well, not looking for what they found. One lad yelled, “Snake!” Everyone stopped. Another lad further down the line yelled, “Snake here too!” Turns out it was the SAME SNAKE! These boa constrictors can grow to be 25 feet long.
There were other stories too – not all of which I’ll share because they are so hair-raising – but one was about how these boas would drop out of trees onto their prey. Gah! “Laurence, could you shine that light up the trees too?” (Yes, I’m mixing boas and rattlers – but they are both snakes.)
I like to tuck into bed shortly after we get back from our after supper walk, read a little, listen to a news podcast, and wait for the Sandman to pay me a visit. He did, but he didn’t stick around long. About 11 pm I woke up screaming. Laurence had to wake me up. “Jannie,” he said, “It’s OK” and gave me a big hug. And after I was sufficiently awake, he asked, “What were you dreaming about this time?” (Note from Jan: Yelling in the middle of the night is “normal” for me. I am hoping my neighbours have guessed that by now...)
I responded that I dreamed I could hear this loud grinding, rattling sound. Last year at this time, it would likely have been our furnace/air conditioning unit. But we replaced it recently so I know it wasn’t that. Now that I was awake, I had to use the “powder room.” I really, really had to use it. Only one problem. I figured out in my mind what the scary noise was: a rattlesnake under the bed!
I did not have the heart to wake up Laurence again and ask him to please check under the bed for a rattlesnake. Nor did I have the courage to wake up the rattlesnake by stepping on it on my route to the bathroom. My sleep was more than a little uncomfortable and fitful.
Monsters under the bed disappear on their own if you get up for the day. So “get up for the day” is what I did – an early start to the day, I must say.
I’m not alone in the monster-making department. When we lived in Sudbury, my hubs got up in the middle of the night to do what many of us need to do, and he heard a monster from the other side of the shower curtain state, “I’m Tubman.” Laur’s heart beat more quickly for a few seconds, and then he said, “Tubman!? What a stupid concept!” And he went back to bed and back to sleep.
I don’t want to be able to sleep like a baby. I want to be able to sleep like my husband.
The fact that he had to ask underscores how lightly he takes the ever-present snake threat. Unless you’re in Ireland, there are snakes out there somewhere. There were a few things that had notched up my usual snake trepidation that evening. First off, it’s starting to get warmer here in AZ, so our hibernating little rattlesnake friends are starting to stir.
Secondly, the lights were off temporarily on the section of the street we were walking on. Laur had his trusty flashlight out, but it’s not a floodlight. Every bump I walked over felt like it might be my last.
And most likely the worst culprit, was our afternoon chat with friends. Don’t get me wrong. The friends are awesome, but the lads got to talking about their experiences with snakes in South Asia when they were in the military in the “Nam” years.
Adam (not his real name) talked about walking along a bridge and noting how the rail alternated from being wood, to something softer. It was only after he crossed the bridge that he realized a python had wrapped itself along the railing and he had been giving it a nice pat down.
Everet (not his real name either) described walking a field with his platoon fanned out, looking for_____? Well, not looking for what they found. One lad yelled, “Snake!” Everyone stopped. Another lad further down the line yelled, “Snake here too!” Turns out it was the SAME SNAKE! These boa constrictors can grow to be 25 feet long.
There were other stories too – not all of which I’ll share because they are so hair-raising – but one was about how these boas would drop out of trees onto their prey. Gah! “Laurence, could you shine that light up the trees too?” (Yes, I’m mixing boas and rattlers – but they are both snakes.)
I like to tuck into bed shortly after we get back from our after supper walk, read a little, listen to a news podcast, and wait for the Sandman to pay me a visit. He did, but he didn’t stick around long. About 11 pm I woke up screaming. Laurence had to wake me up. “Jannie,” he said, “It’s OK” and gave me a big hug. And after I was sufficiently awake, he asked, “What were you dreaming about this time?” (Note from Jan: Yelling in the middle of the night is “normal” for me. I am hoping my neighbours have guessed that by now...)
I responded that I dreamed I could hear this loud grinding, rattling sound. Last year at this time, it would likely have been our furnace/air conditioning unit. But we replaced it recently so I know it wasn’t that. Now that I was awake, I had to use the “powder room.” I really, really had to use it. Only one problem. I figured out in my mind what the scary noise was: a rattlesnake under the bed!
I did not have the heart to wake up Laurence again and ask him to please check under the bed for a rattlesnake. Nor did I have the courage to wake up the rattlesnake by stepping on it on my route to the bathroom. My sleep was more than a little uncomfortable and fitful.
Monsters under the bed disappear on their own if you get up for the day. So “get up for the day” is what I did – an early start to the day, I must say.
I’m not alone in the monster-making department. When we lived in Sudbury, my hubs got up in the middle of the night to do what many of us need to do, and he heard a monster from the other side of the shower curtain state, “I’m Tubman.” Laur’s heart beat more quickly for a few seconds, and then he said, “Tubman!? What a stupid concept!” And he went back to bed and back to sleep.
I don’t want to be able to sleep like a baby. I want to be able to sleep like my husband.