HAW-Do you wanna go outside? Huh?

The woman is so easily amused.  To make her laugh I just have to look at her and say "Do you wanna go outside?  Huh?"  It must be a wonderful thing to be such a simple creature. 

Today she is going to go look at a boa.  I don't know why she wants a boa, she likes pythons.  She said to me "that's why, I don't know why I don't like boas."  That doesn't make a lot of sense, at least to me.  I, me, me, Mister Birdy Birdy Bird-think that all snakes are rather dull and uninteresting.  They don't make any noise, very little mess-I don't think they have a lot of fun. 

 I'm allowed to yell the snakes all I want because they are deaf, but I cannot go knock on the side of the tank-NO NO NO.  I don't see why not-they can't get to ME ME ME, but the woman says it isn't "nice".  Well, neither is biting the side of the tank.  When I, me, Mister Birdy Birdy Bird, when I am going to bite, I squawk or give a click of my beak to give a person a little warning.  Not those dumb ol' snakes-they sit there all still and then BOOM-right on the side of the tank.  It could give a bird a fright!  And then they go right back to not moving. B-o-r-i-n-g.

Sometimes the Prissy and I come and go on the same trip-me on my perch and Prissy tucked under the woman's arm.  Today I was thinking about giving those big ol' ears a nibble, and the woman said "Now Oliver, she won't like that."  Why should I care, but maybe I should because I'm pretty sure that I got a few extra bite of pop CORN for that.

But seriously, LOOK at those big ears.  Anyway, the Prissy owes me.  The woman forgot she was out and it started raining and thundering.  I took charge and started howling like a dog and then yelled "PRISSY, PRISSY, NIGHT NIGHT"  until the woman went outside and got her.  I do like to keep things in order around here.

HAW-try to stay out of the rain!

The Naming of the Clowns

The two clowns (ball pythons) are Lucy and Ethel! It took them awhile to tell me who they were. They are settling in nicely and should be ready for their pictorial debut soon.

I'm not really moved to name the pinstripe Ricky or Fred, as I doubt he will court either of the ladies, not that he would mind. He'll tell me who he is in time.

I'm still stunned and amazed at how tiny GloWorm is. I knew they were small, but I'd never actually seen a young GTP, and the adults look so mysterious and all knowing. Glo may know things, but he's too little to speak up very loud. He does do that python threat display-gaping jaws and I laugh with delight every time he does it. When Tarzan did it as a baby it was cute, and even at 5 feet it was kind of funny. Glo, at less than a foot and about the width of a thick strand of yarn, is just hysterical.

My snakes are all captive bred, as is my parrot. The wild needs the wild ones left alone, and there are plenty of breeders around in the pet trade now. Ok, maybe not for GTP's, but if you want one, pay extra, get a captive bred one and leave the wild ones out there.

Elvis LIVES!!!! and other gallows humor

Elvis, Andy Warhol and Scarlett, my three native snakes, have bruminated and will most likely survive. I moved them into a warmer place by the water heater (gas) just to help them along.

Andy annouced his state of non-death by hissing loudly and baring his teeth when I picked him up. Since I thought he was dead, it startled me a bit. Elvis was equally preturbed at being rescued.

The others were dead and beginning to bloat. Apparently you can decay even in frigid temps. I never knew that. When a male snake dies, its hemipenis (they have two wonkers) is extruded during rigor mortis. Turns out Bette was a Bob. Who knew?

Alfred was removed from his resting place at the bottom of the rat freezer. He ended up on the top of the pile being hauled out to the curb, at least he was on top till he slid off and under the wheels of the trash bin. THUD. 12 pounds of frozen snake makes a frightful sounds. "Goddammit Alfred" I cussed, then cracked up laughing. Alfred always was a trouble maker.

I was systematic, removing the dead and then the previously frozen and then cleaned out my freezer/fridge-anything that was a stink potential was tossed. I sang negro spirituals and then made up my own as I worked. "Sometimes I feel like a motherless child" morphed into "Bring out your dead and start new life"....

I was glad I made it clear that I didn't want/need any help because I was able to go about my tasks in my own head space. Singing, crying, doing what I needed to do. I bought a smudge stick and will smudge the house tomorrow. Mom annoyed me by going from not knowing what a smudge stick was to lecturing me on how to use it in one breath.

Mom is sort of in high snit because I won't let her help. It's a safety precaution for us all-she has no fear of spoiled food but is terrified of waste. I really need to lay off Mom-she is moving into the land of the lost. I mourn her, I respect her, but I cannot cater to every disordered thought. It won't do anyone any good.

And, I also respect me. This was my time to mourn my departed friends and even my departed can of sheep's yogurt and the cauliflower that would never be made into soup. It was not a time to defend why I purchased it or why the cauliflower was two days down on the list of things to save and therefore went unsaved.

Tomorrow, if the power is not restored I will give us all a break and go to a motel for a few days. The more invisible I try to make myself the more agitated Mom gets. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???" There really isn't a good answer for that one.

Dementia is not only a mind killer, it can kill the souls of those around, if you let it. I will not let it it. My task is to keep my eyes open, show respect and take care of what I can. It isn't to throw myself on someone else's crazed pyre.

And that's the rub-cause I would if I could, and if it would do any good.

Did I run out of things to say?

No, not really, just didn't want to say any of it. Friday was my daughter's birthday. We are estranged because she does a lot of drugs and I won't be a part of that. I've never seen my granddaughter, but I wish them both well.

On Friday, Uncle John and I went for a bit of shopping and I took a long nap. And yes I was very sad.

Yesterday I had to put down one of my snakes. Alfred was a gamble from the start-a wild caught adult ball python. Not a good idea, but I wanted to try. He never ate, including the chick I offered him as a last ditch effort. Now I have a pet chick, because I can't offer it to another snake in case Alfred had something contagious. And while chick as snake food doesn't bother me in the least-killing chick because you don't WANT it to be snake food isn't cool.

And I thought I have sunk low at times-too low to be SNAKE FOOD, that's low.

Anyway, Alfred is sleeping with the frozen rats and the chicken is peeping around in a box on the sunporch. Funny old world, eh?

Cool

Ok, I got bit by a snake 3 times today-in front of one of the great snake guru's of all time-Bob Clark. It was his snake (a piebald beauty) and it was a baby-but I was really proud that I didn't flinch or act preturbed. I felt like I was way cool not to show fear in front of the master......

Ok, I doesn't take much to boost my self esteem these days.

Decisions

Buying a duplex is not downsizing, even if you only intend to live in half. My Uncle will never be able to leave assisted living, my parents refuse to move to Dallas.

So, I have to make plans to find a small house and go on alone.....all alone.....just me, the cat, four dogs and 13 snakes, one Scotty, one kayak, one dog cart.

Ok, compared to most people I AM downsized, believe it or not. I will be the first to admit, surrounding yourself only with what you use and or love makes for some strange decor. My house would be a good candidate for one of those makeover shows, but the only improvement would be about 30K worth of high quality show room vivariums for the snakes (they did do that on one show) and I am fresh out of 30K's. That's where the tools came in.

On the Scotty front-it's a good thing I haven't untarped-it's another week long rain. Bah.