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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Crocodile who wrote (56666)	12/3/2000 9:01:18 AM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (5) \| Respond to of 71178

Thought of you Friday... when I, City Woman, looked death in the face in the wilds of my own back yard where I was attacked by a giant, deadly water moccasin and then almost died of hypothermia, barely escaping with all my fingers and toes, before I could crawl back to the house. Well, sort of. It all started when I was gazing blearily into my coffee Friday morning and heard the unmistakable sound of a clogged pool engine. I didn't need to look out to know what had happened. The leaves had decided to fall off the tree next to the pool. They do this every year. Wow, big deal, you are thinking, but I tell you, these leaves are different; they are cognizant! They plan this. They pick a time when they know Dan is out of town and the boys are really busy, and I am all alone and defenseless, and they all fall off at exactly the same moment into the pool and race for the filters. The lookout must have seen Dan leave with his overnight bag Thursday and called an emergency meeting to organize the blitzkrieg for that night. They moved quickly under cover of darkness and now they sat, forty pounds of wet leaves snickering at the bottom of the pool, another ten or twenty victoriously clogging the filters and the suckything. And they knew, they KNEW, that I was the only one home. Sure enough, when I went out the filters were so packed I couldn’t even get to the basket to lift it out and empty it so I started pulling out huge handfuls of freezing, drenched leaves. And then it happened! THe leaves came to life! They started to fight back! They MOVED. I looked at my hand in disbelief, because, although I have no doubt that the leaves of this particular tree are sentient in some alien way, I did not think they could actively attack me. I looked more closely, and screamed. I was holding a snake. Which I promptly dropped back into the filter. Which meant I now had to take the leaves out carefully and slowly one at a time since I was not about to touch that snake again and give him a chance to bite me. You are probably smirking and saying he was a little garden snake or something, but you just don’t know! So what if he was only eight inches long with the circumference of a pencil-- Maybe he was a very tiny, lethally poisonous, rare East African Carpet Viper who had gotten lost and swum up the Trinity River to our creek. Anyway, it took forever to clean the filters, which accounts for the frozen fingers part of the story. I lied about the frozen toes to be dramatic. And I never found the snake either. Maybe he went into the system and is now multiplying. And the next attack will be not leaves, but snakes. I'll write a sequel. Indiana Rambi and the Temple of Snakes.