So on our farm we had snakes. BIG honkin snakes. Not little garter snakes, but big big big long long fat fat snakes. That's a special breed that grows on farms. The snakes liked our farm very much because we had oodles of big boulders in the pasture, and because our barn had a stone foundation. Any time you wanted to freak my sister out, she's phobic about snakes you know, anyway, all we had to do was push the boulders around, and out they'd come. Four or five at a time, like boa constrictors etching their names in the tall grass.
My sister would scream and then go motionless. True phobia, I learned very young, is something like paralysis. Then my brother would come with his shovel to our rescue and chop the snakes in half.
Farm life was really cool.
