Sittin' on a Washin' Machine
I think anyone can safely claim to having had an interesting morning when they've spent a good 15 minutes of that time of day perched on the top of a washing machine. As it goes, I was in the bathroom when I heard Aaron and Caleb's excited voices coming from outside, "Snake! I think it's a snake!"
Aaron: "It looks dead."
Caleb: "It's a snake..."
Dad's voice joins in at this stage, coming from the shed, "What?!"
Both of them: "Snake!"
Dad: "Don't move!"
A few good seconds passed while I finished up in the bathroom, where I figure Dad must have grabbed the nearest shovel and ran for the house. I went out the school room back door, and there was Hannah who'd somehow slung herself half way over the back fence and who looked almost stuck. "Where's the snake?" I asked.
Wobbling precariously, she lifted one hand and pointed towards the clothsline and the boys standing excitedly on the trampoline. I left her to her own devices to complete her journey over the fence, and running back in the school room door, went down the back verandah and out our real back-door to the laundry.
As it went, the Little Boys hadn't actually seen the whole snake, but just it's head as it poked it's way out of a crack in the concrete pathway out to the clothes-line. We'd had a few points of rain over night and it's home of passageways under the concrete had become flooded. The jolly reptile had slunk back into his hidey hole, however, quite unaware of how many human eyes were waiting for his slightest move...
Even a whole urnfull of hot water wouldn't convince him to make an appearance. I had climbed onto the washing machine by this point--I figure there must be some safety in height--and was hanging over the edge to get a view through the open door. I pressed the button on the camera; took a shot. Every eye kept watching. Then suddenly Dad's voice took on the boyish tone of excitement, "I see him! Quick! I need something to get down this crack!" There was a little bit of mental commotion between father and son, and then Josh tore back through the door and past me, "My machete!" He was back in quick time and an insignificiant crack between two slabs of concrete underwent quite a frightful attack by a machete at Dad's hand...
But to no avail. The crack remained as it ever was and some sneaky little snake was still breathing happily under his fortress of binded sand. The watch for him wore on. Hannah fetched a torch to see if that would bring him to light, but even with Josh down on his knees, his head almost level with the crack like a Muslim in prayer didn't bring about anything more than a fine observation of his back jeans pocket.
I dare say, the boys were a mite disappointed...lol
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