Ernest The Drunken Snake Slayer

I was hanging bloomers out on the front porch clothesline Saturday, in true hillbilly style, when I heard an excited voice calling from the other side of the pine tree at the edge of the yard. All I heard was "black snake!" and "a big'un!!"

I started doing the pee-pee dance, because that's what I do when someone says snake. I'm not sure why, other than maybe in my head I think quick moving toesies make for a more difficult target.

I tried to peek around the towels and sheets to see who was yelling. I needed to see just how "big'un" the slithery visitor was.. like it mattered one way or the other. I've been known to hyperventilate at the sight of a garter snake. Right about then, a face appeared from behind the pine tree. I saw a toothless grin and a ballcap.. a face that can only be described as this guy's twin, less teeth, plus a mullet:

No chit. Ernest goes The Holler.

There was no snake. Thank gawd. Apparently Ernest II was the crackhead redneck who ran up on our porch and grabbed our shovel a few weeks back and used it to kill a black snake. He was just making sure I knew about it. The smell of alcohol coming off him would smother a mule.. and he was about five feet away from me. Of course, he had to stand there and talk about snakes for 10 minutes, causing me to damn near break out in hives.

I love my neighbors.

In other news...

The new plant manager started last week. She's worked at two of our other plants during different times in her career and everyone Lulu and I know from those locations has made a point to call us to both warn us to watch our backs and to revel in the glory that she's out of their lives.

This isn't going to end well.

I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt, rumors can be a destructive thing, but when someone who has NEVER spoken ill of anyone to you before calls and tells you to keep your distance, it probably pays to take note.

No one has had anything positive to say about her. No one.

I give it about a month before all hell breaks loose.

Meanwhile, back at the trailer...

Those of you know that I share my humble abode with both my daughter (who is grown, but I had her when I was like.. 8.. okay?) and my mother (who is slowly driving me insane in return for all the evil chit I did when I was 13.) Our three bedroom trailer has a master bedroom with a full bathroom, ginormous closet, etc. Ma's room. At the other end, The Amazon and I share a small bathroom and because of pecking order, she has the tiny, walk-in closet sized bedroom and I have the only slightly larger one.

Clearly we need more room.

When I thought Ma was going to the home, I figured I'd eventually move into her room and things would work out, but now that it appears that she's going to stay here and slowly drag me down into her spiraling whirlpool of nutcase, we have to do something. The Amazon's stuff is basically spilling out into the hallway.

I really do need to get a camper to use as an extra bedroom. I can't afford an Airstream, as much as I'd love to, but I should be able to find something with enough room for just me and my crafty bits for under $5000. I'm going to wave down the Leprechaun the next time I see him (the little hairy feller who fixed our sewage line) and see how much it would cost to add a sewer tap down on the other end of the yard. The garden will have to be relocated, but it's too big for me to manage anyway. I figure, if I do all this then something happens and I move back into the trailer, I can always rent the camper out to hikers on weekends for $50 a night.

So there ya go. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Sound like a plan?

I have no idea how I'll pay for said camper or how I can wing yet another payment, but what the hell. I'll figure something out.

I always do.

Ya'll have a good 'un. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

Tweet