Today my most legit phobia in life came into play begging the question, does anyone want to buy a beautiful historic waterfront home on over an acre of land? What's driven me to this point? There's just one GIANT slithering detail!
Our home has a lovely fenced in courtyard with a perfect spot for relaxing around the fire pit.
And the sun rise views over the water are nothing short of breathtaking.
Interested? Because as of today, I've decided there's simply no other option than to put it on the market. Because I have no other choice after what I learned today.
"Why" you might wonder? Sure we've had our share of unexpected...challenges. Mainly that time our heat went out and the house froze and we spent the bulk of a year putting in a new HVAC and plumbing system. But now that we've crossed that hurdle and everything was looking up, we now have the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.
My parents just arrived at the house for a long weekend only to be greeted by our new welcoming committee. No, it wasn't our darling neighborhood pig that may actually be the single best thing about the neighborhood.
Instead, it was this grotesque cold blooded slithering joker just hanging around plotting his attack sunning himself.
For anyone that knows me or that's been reading for a while, you may know that my number one fear is snakes. Let me repeat. My number one fear in life is snakes. I'm talking crippling, mind melting, some (Alex) may even suggest irrational and debilitating fear to end all fears, and it's based completely in my own personal neuroticism. These jerks trump monsters under the bed. They trump escalators that grab your shoe laces. They even trump the Wicked Witch's flying monkeys! Snakes. When they appear, I can't conduct myself as a normal human being.
I'm semi-content to remain ignorant on the subject, instructing Alex to just "deal with one if you ever see it in the yard, but don't tell me about it." But now that I'm aware that this, what, at least 28 foot long python is roaming our property, my blissful ignorance has been shattered and we'll be forced to go scorched earth and vacate the premises immediately.
Alex does not agree with my current assessment and required sale, which is lucky for whoever decides to move in, because he's also going to convey with the home. Congratulations on the slightly slow but reasonably competent DIYer that you'll get with the house. He'll probably be around until the day the snake decides to finish him off as a late afternoon snack.
But what I do know is there's a mix of poisonous and "harmless" (though I'm relatively certain even the smallest and most innocuous could easily unhinge its jaw to swallow me whole) snakes in our area. So now I'm legitimately curious, you know, for the future owners of this house, does anyone have an idea of into which category this a-hole falls?
I'm being told repeatedly that he's a "harmless" black snake (though I'm certain he's already stolen puppies and babies from neighboring homes), and I know it's not a copperhead, but any insight would be appreciated. And aside from keeping the grass mowed, removing hiding places like big bushes and wood piles, and keeping pests/rodents under control, is there much else we can do to keep them away?
Some may think "It's a house on the water with trees and grass around, how could she expect to NOT see a snake?" I understand your thought process on the matter, I see your completely logical point, but it makes absolutely no sense to me and I simply can't comprehend this logic. I think I just need to move to Ireland as St. Patrick made sure we'd never see any snakes in that beautiful land!
On a related note, we coincidentally hired a pest control company to take care of any tick population and they're scheduled to start treatment next week, and that includes snake control. Until then, I'll be safely tucked away in the city, curled in a fetal position, crying and drinking champagne from the bottle.