Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore always carry a small snake.” – W.C. Fields, American actor and comedian (1880-1946)
“Never wound a snake; kill it” – Harriet Tubman, American abolitionist and social activist (1822-1913)
Most of my life snakes have made me squeamish. I don’t care if they’ve been on the road for three days smushed flatter than a pancake. I don’t like them. I believe that enmity between a snake and a woman goes back to the beginning of time and nothing will change that. That being said, women in the South become accustomed to snakes. You can always yell at your husband or a man friend and he’ll respond, “Does it have a sharp pointy head or more of a block head?” “Does it have bright colored markings or is it kinda dull colored?” Another option is you learn to take care of the snake yourself. Remember steel magnolias, it may be unpleasant, but you have to do what you have to do. Unless you are really close to a snake it will probably move on. If it doesn’t you just might have to take care of it. I have used a hoe, hacking at a snake’s head while talking on my cell phone. They say a snake can bite you even if its head is severed so don’t pick it up. Before I moved to the Prairie while still living in the country a friend next door shot a snake multiple times in her yard. She called her husband out to identify the snake, but he said there wasn’t enough of him left to be identified. That’s another option.
Years ago, my church pastor said he’d like to go up to the Appalachian regions to see the snake handlers who refer to Mark 16:17-18 as a demonstration of faith. “And these signs will accompany those who believe. In my name they will cast out demons: they will speak in new tongues, they will pick up serpents with their hands: and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them.” There’s a stronghold of snake handlers in northeast Alabama around Scottsboro. I think my pastor never made it to the demonstrations, I imagine his wife would have nothing of it. Author Dennis Covington wrote a book “Salvation on Sand Mountain” He wrote his nonfiction book in 1995 while on a journalistic assignment covering the trail of an Alabama pastor convicted of attempting the murder of his wife with poisonous snakes. Okay, something of a nightmare.
On another note last week Sam and I were enjoying sitting on the back porch, the trees in full greenery. I’ve planted flowers and hung Boston ferns alongside the rails. The black cherry tree has small cherries popping out. Wilhelmina curled up on her cushion. The American Gold Finches have returned to their globe where they will have their new babies. The male bird feeds the female while she remains on the eggs. All in all, it’s a beautiful world.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].
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