Flying Snake of Death

So for the past four or so days I have been nursing my poor infected kidneys back to health. Which has not been fun at all. I've done a lot of sleeping and staggering around the house and missing all of the beautiful weather that we have been having. So today, I decided during my lunch hour as I was sitting in the porch watching Ti mutilate one of the cats that I was going to do something productive. So last year when we had that big freeze and everything under my house burst the majority of the plant life in my yard died, including the mosquito vine. I don't actually know what the vine is really called but I refer to it as the mosquito vine because if you walk near it in the summer time, more than likely you are going to contract malaria, or west nile, or whatever it is that you get from mosquitoes. Anyways, half of the vine came back, the other half did not and now I have this big, dead, crappy looking vine that needs serious help. But as of today, I will not be helping it.

Here is a picture of me with the mosquito vine, back in the day when I was 18, not afraid of contracting a mosquito disease and when I thought this was attractive enough to post on myspace. WTF was I thinking?

Anyways, so as I was sitting on the porch I decided that I would walk over and look at the vine and see what all I could do about hacking up all the dead before the mosquitoes officially moved into it this summer. What I should have done is asked Joseph to do it when he got home from work because, that little grass snake he said would never hurt anyone and that he let live last month has officially moved out from under my plastic pond and into the mosquito vine.

So there I was, tugging at a dead portion of the vine, trying to rip some of it down when a flying, ninja, grass snake came flying out of the vine and landed directly on my shoulder. Kidney infection problem solved, I peed my pants. They are working again. (Ok, I did not actually pee my pants, but trust me, I could have.)

So then I screamed, or rather screeched, ran out of the yard, did a ninja dance in the driveway, and decided I am never going back into my yard again.  In fact, if Joseph ever wants me to cook dinner for him again, he will have to build a bridge from the carport to the front door because I am not stepping foot inside the gate to that yard ever again.

So the moral to this story is, next time your fiance tells you that you should kill the snake under the plastic fake pond and you say, "It's just a grass snake. It won't hurt anyone!" and your fiance says, "yes, I will hurt myself trying to get away from it if I ever see it again!" You should just listen, and kill the damn snake.

Also, I am not sure if that really was THE snake, but I am going to believe that it was to get my point across.