An English In Kentucky


















September 27th 2010    Tim Candler

    A keen eyed Mole Hunter spotted the snake amongst Sweet Potato Vines.  I saw fifteen foot of snake.  Her less passionate understanding put the snake at around five foot of what she called "Probably Rat Snake."

    Thoroughly cowered by the idea of something with huge teeth creeping in the Vegetable Garden  I searched for an implement with which the Mole Hunter might at least remove the snake from the kingdom.   Tongs, I thought, and headed for the kitchen.  'Rake,' she insisted.

    But when keen eyes are otherwise occupied, snakes apparently disappear because either "She's got eggs in there" or "She's got a hole in there."   Neither option very useful at this time of year when snakes are anyway more petulant because of cooler nights.  I begin to wish Saint Patrick had visited the United States, but had he done so we might not have Toads, which would be a great sadness.  

    I will say that even though the snake looked angst driven before she looked fierce, I do find myself  behaving as some grasses have learned to do when reaching a corner in the Vegetable Garden.

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