Snake Rescue, that is.
I went out for my evening blueberry picking session and found a (damn large) garter snake caught in the blueberry netting. Is THIS the pest that has been eating all of my berries? Probably not, but caught he was, and looking pretty mad about it:
As I came nearer, he panicked, making things worse by twisting, turning and further tightening the netting around him:
Thinking this was helping, he then started to roll:
Great, now there are sticks wrapped up with him, too:
I take one look at the sight before me and did what any pansy-assed city girl with a dislike of snakes would do: I call my husband at work. I pull my cellphone out of my back pocket:
(for illustration purposes only - not my cell phone, not my hand)
...and see that (yay!) it has one bar of reception. I dial. No answer. Hmpf. So I leave one of his favorite types of voicemails: "Jiiiiim, there's a snake all caught and twisted up in the blueberry netting and there's NO way I can keep him from biting me while cutting the netting off him...when are you coming HOME? I need help!!"
Why is this his favorite type of voicemail? Well, because with only one bar of reception, it comes through to him like this..."Jiiiiim, snake....caught and twisted.... biting me....cutting...help!!"
Meanwhile, back at the blueberries, I pull myself together. I remember that the pansy-assed city girl doesn't live here anymore. I pull up my big girl pants, retrieve my extremely thick canvas gloves and a small pair of scissors, and get to work.
He doesn't like me. He makes this perfectly clear:
Trying to keep my mind on the goal and not the fact that I'm holding a snake in my hands who's biting me repeatedly, I get a firm hold on his head:
...and start snipping away at the netting. It's so tight in places at this point, it's underneath his scales:
It's almost impossible to hang on to a snake's head with one hand, snip netting with the other, and somehow pull away the netting as you go along. I need another hand. I think briefly about using my teeth, but opt against that and decide to use gravity to help me instead:
Yes, that does the trick. After much snipping, the remaining netting slides down his body and gathers at the tip of his tail:
That falls away and I am able to release my vice-like grip on the poor guy's head. Off he slithers into the grapes with not even a hissed note of thanks:
Minutes later, Jim arrives home to assist with the "snake emergency".
"I took care of it," I say, like it was no big deal.