So far, there's still more of us than them around here, and we've become very careful walkers. Hanging out the laundry has more suspense than an Indiana Jones movie. Like morel mushrooms, I can't seem to see the snakes, even if I'm standing with my toe touching one. Luckily, my youngest has the eye, so she gets lots of trips out to the clothesline with me. The other day, I was carrying her into the house, and she was crying because she didn't want to come inside. And then she said, "Sn... sn... snake," through her sniffles. "Show me," says I, thinking it was a distraction technique. And she pointed to the woodpile I just walked by and, sure enough, clear as day, a big old snake with bands around his tail and an aggressive attitude. Honestly, if he had been poisonous instead of just a great actor, I'd probably be writing this from a bed with a call button.
But living in the country has its fantastic perks, which I am especially feeling right now. I can't wait to put the garden in, and we're putting in more veggies than ever. There are little seedings all over the house. I hope I locate a camera (I mean, I only have three) some time before I plant them, so I can show pictures. The trick is going to be finding time to take care of the garden, while also working nights this summer. I'm thinking that we'll incorporate gardening into the kids' daily schedule. They can pretend they're farmers growing their own winter sustenance. Oh, wait... Well, I'll call it "pretending," anyway. I have noticed that things are not as much fun for kids if they're true. Hence, my husband and I suppressing smiles whenever they say, "Hey, let's pretend we're poor and have to clean all the time!" Bless Cinderella and her glorification of housework...
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