Of Haycorns and Unexpected Encounters

I seem to be carving out a niche for myself as a snake blogger these days. How charming. Once again, my dear brothers are wanting me to post pictures of their latest trophy… so here they are, along with my (only slightly edited) journal entry from that afternoon. (I’d already written the story once, and so figured it might as well do for both. If y’all don’t mind.) Enjoy…

From my journal…October 13, 2013

So, this lovely Sunday afternoon I set off for the woods on a haycorn-collecting adventure. (Note: I know the correct name is ‘acorn’. However, Winnie the Pooh has always called them ‘haycorns’ and since I believe he would really know best on the subject, and since I find the word ‘haycorn’ hilariously adorable, so I shall call them too. Humor me.) Anyways, I wanted some haycorns to use for a ridiculously adorable Fall decorating idea I found recently, and so I convinced Luke to accompany me. (Note #2: Luke is a pretty fabulous brother, in case anyone was looking for fabulous-brother-examples or anything. Of course, ALL of my brothers are awesome, but this story is about Luke. Just to clarify.)Anyway, we went off to look for haycorns. Where was I going with this? Well, we went down to a little hollow in the woods below the pond and started picking up haycorns by ones and twos and threes (I had imagined we would scoop them up off the ground with my basket, as one would draw water from a stream, but I was disappointed. Apparently it has not been a bumper year for haycorns.) The mosquitoes in the woods near said pond were both ubiquitous and malicious, and I began to hear myself complaining (forgetting that I was the reason we were out there in the first place, I suppose.) Hearing my complaints, Luke, ignoring the fact that I was the reason we were out there in the first place, kindly led the way across the field to another haycorn-producing plot of woods, where we proceeded to fill (the bottom of) my basket and talk about various subjects of interest. After awhile, we were headed back in the general direction of home when Luke suddenly stopped still. (Being a mere step behind him, I stopped still too – with my chin in his shoulder blade.) “Turn around”, said Luke calmly, just as I looked over his shoulder and beheld one of those cursed-by-God, devilish creatures known as snakes – a Copperhead, in this instance. I was “turned around” and walking rapidly away before you could blink, only in my excitement I walked into a tree. Once Luke had led me around it, I hitched up my skirt and my basket of haycorns and ran like fury flew gracefully back to a little clearing where I felt safer. And there I stood, holding my precious haycorns, praying that God would send the snake a heart attack (I honestly prayed that) and watching as Luke located a big stick. I ascertained that he meant to kill the snake with the stick. I informed him that I wasn’t sure what to do if the snake bit him during the battle. He cheerfully told me to cut off circulation above the wound, and commenced the killing. I turned around (still hugging my basket of haycorns) and moaned for a while, praying that God would not let Luke get bit by a snake while on a haycorn-expedition of my planning. God answered said prayer, and Luke presently informed me that the snake was dead, but still thrashing, and didn’t I want to come see it? (I didn’t.) Whereupon I thought we should go home, but Luke pulled out his cellphone and took pictures of his “trophy”. Then he called the house and asked Levi (our aspiring taxidermist) if he wanted a three-foot Copperhead to mount. He did, so we proceeded to the edge of the woods (Luke carrying the snake on a stick, me prancing 20 feet ahead and telling him not to come any closer) to wait for Levi to come pick us (me, Luke, snake, and haycorns) up in the truck. Only, Levi had gotten the wrong impression as to where exactly on the 350-acre place we were and went the wrong way, driving around for a time whilst we stood there, Luke guarding snake, me holding haycorns, listening to the truck ambling through the woods in the distance and wondering why Levi hadn’t brought a phone. Finally, seeing the truck down on the road, we walked halfway, flagged him down, piled in the truck, and drove back to where we had left the snake. I remained in the truck with my haycorns while the boys put the snake (now dead, stiff, and stinky) in the back, and we headed home. And all the other guys came out to see the trophy, and I gathered up my basket of haycorns and brought them inside to decorate with and we all (except the snake) lived happily ever after. The end.