Is this a saga?

When I told my neighbor I killed the snake--She's the one who said, "Oh. We love the snakes." And so on.--she said, "Don't worry. You'll get more."

Swell.

Yesterday proved her prophecy. I opened my garage door to find a snake, sunning himself on my driveway, very close to sliding under my garage door and coming inside. He looked like the identical twin of the one I killed, but I suppose all such small snakes look alike. My neighbor's snake-love notwithstanding, I don't want him. I tried to step on him/it, and thought I'd kick him out to the street but only succeeded in chasing him over to my other neighbor's yard. He hid himself in the weedy area right under a pine tree.

He'll be back, I'm sure.

And, actually, he is not the first thing on my mind these days. Just one of the things.

Why?

I killed the snake.

I feel bad about it.

If I could talk to the animals

The tree guys are here. I asked Erik, the boss, if he knew how to get rid of snakes. He said, "Oh, snakes are good. They eat rodents."

Okay. I'll try to be happy. Snakes are probably better than mice. However, a squirrel is a rodent, and I don't like squirrels, and I don't see any decrease the their numbers, which means the snake does not bother the squirrels.

Then Erik asked where the snake's nest is. I showed him the place right near my front step where the snake slips up between the concrete and the siding. He said, "Yes, I see another snake skin here."

So. Does that mean my snake has shed his skin twice? Or does it mean more than one snake? Of course, there's no way to tell how long that other snake skin has been there.

If you're thinking all this is kind of like a nightmare, you are right.

Erik and Daniel suggested that when I see the snake out, I should get that spot calked up. Easy for them to say. And here's what I thought:

• I do not stand around waiting to see the snake.
• If I did, he wouldn't come out.
• I don't do calking.

Just then my neighbor Pam came over. I told her about the snake and what Erik had said. He smiled. She said, "We have a lot of snakes. They come up from the canal back there. My husband loves the snakes. He protects them." Erik looked happy. He had been validated.

Then my neighbor said, "I fed the raccoons over the weekend."

I said, "What? How?" And, of course, why? But I didn't say it.

"We were gone all weekend," she said, "and we took Dash with us [their dog]. I left his little place open. There was food in there. When we got home we found things tipped over and all the food gone."

Swell. So now the raccoons have been fed and encouraged, and they don't need any encouragement. I'd better keep an eye out for them again. 

And this means that while a dog may scare a raccoon, if it's big enough --at least that's what I heard-- obviously the scent of dog doesn't. Ron, my neighbor across the street, says, "I told her [Michelle, the new neighbor] to keep her dog inside because a raccoon will kill that little dog. Any dog isn't safe because a dog will stick its nose right in and the raccoon will scratch its eyes out."

That is scary and leads me to ask, "What kind of a place is this? It also leads me to think it might be a good thing if the raccoons were here when the phantom dog poops on my lawn. But then I'd have a real mess to clean up.

Yes, It's a Lovely Day, Sort of

It's a beautiful day, so at around 4:30 this afternoon I went outside to have a little walk. However, I was greeted by an unpleasant pile of dog excrement in my front yard and had to clean that up. I do not know what to do about that. It's certainly not the first time.

Any suggestions?

I thought about posting a sign out there:  

PLEASE DO NOT LET YOUR DOG 

USE MY LAWN AS HIS TOILET. 

IF I SEE HIM, I WILL SHOOT HIM. 

OR HER. 

Of course, I won't do that. And, of course, I don't own a gun.

I was also greeted by the snake who lives here and could not--again--manage to send it flying somewhere. (I didn't have my broom with which to sweep it away.) Here is my question: Can snakes hear? I don't see any ears, but that snake hears me coming. Ground vibrations?

I do not like sharing my home with snakes. When the thing has babies what shall I do? Help!

P.S. Later in the evening I discovered, near my front door, the empty snake skin "my" snake had wriggled out of and discarded. Does that mean he's getting bigger? Truly, I do not like this.

Have a date

Dates. The kind you eat. Or at least I eat them. I like dates and bought a container of Medjool dates at Costco this week. They were grown in the Coachella Valley of California. I liked that. I've been to Coachella. It's desert, which seems right. Folks have been growing dates there for more than 100 years.

Medjool dates are large, larger than the kind I grew up eating. I just went online to find out about kinds of dates and found 22 varieties. I think--but how can I ever know for sure?--the dates we ate were Sari dates.  Dates are good for you. Full of potassium and naturally sweet, they have been designated by the USDA as a Super Food.

My mother and father loved dates. I believe I can say that. Or else my mother knew my dad loved them and so we had dates in the house.

At Christmastime, my mother would make fondant, pit dates, and stuff them with her fondant. She would put a pecan half on some and leave it off of some. This is a fond memory for me, my mother's stuffed dates. I certainly ate them, but I liked dates just as much without fondant. I love that I can remember that time and what my mother would make at Christmastime. Stuffed dates, divinity, fudge, spiced cider, carrot pudding boiled in a Crisco can. And so on.

By the way, I took about half of the Medjool dates over to my daughter's house. The two boys who were there only hesitated a moment before trying one. The older boy--he's 18--asked if they were plums or prunes. No, I said. Were they some kind of raisin? No. They are dates. They grow on palm trees.

So it is clear I have given him his first date. Don't know if my daughter has tried one yet. No matter.

Dates. The kind you eat. Or at least I eat them. I like dates and bought a container of Medjool dates

And so

As I recall, Matthew Arnold advocated the examined life. So do I . . . truly, I do. I have always been one to look beneath the surface to find meaning. I do not recall what he said about examining it in public or in a journal others might one day read. The idea of an audience is always in my mind as I write. That's as I write anything. Because, as I taught my students, all writing is written to be read. The idea of audience helps and sometimes hinders, as the preceding remarks indicate.

But this morning I have thought about examining certain of my beliefs. That's because I have been reading Steven C Harper's book on Joseph Smith's first vision, his various reports of it, how they differ, and why. 

Some believers are afraid to look deeply into their beliefs for fear of losing their footing, for fear that all they hold sacred or valuable will come crashing down and they will be left floating, turning this way and that for someone to tell them what to think.

I do not like to be told what to think. I don't even like to be told what I ought to think. (Is that the same thing? Maybe.) Anyway, I like to believe I am independent and able to think on my own. This may or may not be true. Just filling space here.

Makes me think of the phone call the other day from Mike, the car salesman who believes that if he keeps calling me and sending me cards in the mail I will buy my next car from him. He is absolutely wrong. In fact, he could not be more wrong. His salesman-like behavior is certain to keep me from calling upon him as my sales guy. If and when I buy a new car.

Yes, it's true. I have come far afield from what I started to write about. So be it. I will get back to it one day because it all involves memory and experience and interpretation, and that, of course, makes me think of my friend with Alzheimer's. I visited her last week. 

See. I have much to write about.

Just one thought to ponder: Some people behave/proceed as if we have all that Joseph Smith ever said or wrote. We don't. On the first vision or any other subject.