I feel I owe you, My Dear Reader, a conclusion, but you will be disappointed. Yesterday I went out in the morning and cut dry poppies and deadheaded everything that needed it in the flower bed. Then Staffan kept me company while I picked the rest of black currants, cut back raspberries, tied up the last beans and weeded in the farthest corner, where there is a perfect hide for snakes - if I were a snake that's what I would choose. Staffan kept going in to watch the Olympics. I cannot say I felt quite safe, and I don't think I will ever feel safe again. But I am also mortally scared every time I drive through one of those humongous British roundabouts, yet do I have a choice? Driving and gardening are part of the quality of life.
Today I had a sore eye (nothing serious, happens every now and then), which got better in the afternoon, but right as I started digging and dividing day lilies, a thunderstorm came so I have a very good excuse. However, I did go out, and the day lilies bed is right where the snake was. I suppose I have got over it, just as everybody said I would and as deep down I knew I would, although I promise, it was as serious as I wrote in the first post.
I have no wish to read more about snakes nor look at and touch a picture of a snake.
1 comment:
I like this. It's a real story instead of one made to be perfect (even if perfect in its imperfections--all on purpose!)
This morning, I got in the shower only to find my mortal enemy, the spider, making a shadow from where he was attached to the back side of the curtain. I froze, but eventually, I managed to flush him. But it wouldn't matter if I touched him, got to know him, became best friends with him, I'd still be scared of the next one who came along.
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