Last night I fiddled with these beads until about midnight. I could of played all night - as you can see my mind bounced from style to style. I decided to finish off some of these, make some more, and make them up into jewelry over the weekend.
In an effort to wind down and get sleepy I hopped into the bath with a gin and tonic and a good book. I wish they made G and T perfume - love just getting a whiff of it. So there I am reclining one foot hanging out of the bath, two slices of freshly picked lemon floating in my drink and a trashy historical romance - guaranteed sleep material.
I hear Charles (He's been getting to much publicity lately, hence no new photo) crash, bang, thump, run ... Mildly annoyed by his bouncing on the wooden floorboards I picture him playing with one of his toy mice. Yep, at 3 1/2 he still loves to play. A favourite is to push a mouse under one of the floor rugs then dive under from the other side and look for it. Alternatively he will hide his toy behind one of the dining table legs and then spring to the kitchen, There he spins until dizzy runs back to the dining table and tries to find his mouse. I have no worries about his playing. And then a call of nature ...
As I make a nude dash (picture me wrapped in a towel, or still covered in bubbles if it helps), through the kitchen, I pause to adjust the gas heater, and glance down.
Hear palpitations, quickly drawn breaths ... there is a snake on the mat in front of the fire. Not to be too dramatic I will tell you that later, much later, I measured it and it was 52cm long about 21" for my American friends. Back to the gasping and hyper-ventilating. Is it alive? I am nude and it is 1.00am. Can't leave it - it might wriggle away. Where is Charles, is he ok? (Well, obviously or I would not be writing this). Brave, be brave ... Grab the barby tongs - quick grab the snake by the head - don't breathe at all during process.
Aaagh, dead ... head is damaged, bit missing from middle. It is dead. Keep tongs held tightly, find bag. Drop in clear plastic bag, tie top.
Hamish still asleep on study chair ... check. Phantom still asleep in lounge ... check. Charles on bed ... check, breathing, not sure, wake him up. Breathing... check. Start lap top. Wake Charles every minute to check he is alive (note, Charles is not happy at being woken frequently after an hours exercise), use other hand to Google Western Australian Snakes - all the time watching dead snake in bag ....
You are getting the picture. After no luck with Google and realising that at 3.00am it is 2 hours since I set off for the toilet I find that I am too scared to use the loo, after all there could be another one curled up under the seat! Well there could be, after all 30 years ago the 'Big Bad Wolf' lived down the loo at night. I pop the snake in the freezer and try to sleep. Then I start to imagine that this is not the first snake that Charles has brought in through the cat door, that he has let go of the others before he killed them ... after all every snake has a Mum, and a Dad, and google did say snakes have large litters ...
Well after no sleep at all I set off for work, with my now frozen snake on the seat beside me. It was identified there as a young tiger snake, highly venomous at any age ... It seems that Charles may have risked one of his nine lives last night and I have now had a very long afternoon nap.
Time to try for sleep, in the dark, again.