verge (vʉrj)
the edge, brink, or margin (of something): also used figuratively the verge of the forest, on the verge of hysteria

to tend or incline (to or toward)
to be in the process of change or transition into something else; pass gradually (into) dawn verging into daylight

Thursday, January 27, 2011


Yes, that is what I said.  Eek.  Next, ick. Then a long and grunty ew.  Indeed, you are looking at a snake.  And yup, that's snow.  Nope, it's real. That is very much a snake on top of the snow. In peak hibernation time. On snow. On very deep snow, mind you. In the middle of the trail.  Specifically, this snake--let's call him Crusher-- is in the middle of the place where I put my feet when I walk. Artie, Biscuit and I were trudging through the very deep snow (the only kind we have here) when we came across a tattooed and pierced Crusher, who looked quite out of place against this backdrop.  We all became paralyized with fear stopped and stared of course--the dogs have never been fond of snakes either.  We edged closer. And then even closer.  And then....(drum roll)....We touched it.  It was quite frozen. We picked it up.  We put it down. To our great relief, nothing happened. 

I am not a fan of snakes.  They terrify me.  I have still not recovered from That One Time. I had put my hand on a doorknob and was mortified to discover that a snake had curled itself around that very same doorknob, tossing and turning against my hand and wrist, mercilessly taunting me with his cleverness and wit.  Crusher didn't quite stop my heart from beating but he has occupied my mind ever since we found him last week. 

Enter Biology Ben.  Professor Ben shows up in the college cafeteria every so often and inspires us with his insect insight.  It just happens that Ben also knows all about snakes.  I asked Ben to explain this Crusher thing to me.  Ben tells me that garter snakes are one of the only brands of snakes to freeze in winter, and they usually do so under ground.  Something must have dug old Crusher up and dropped him there in my trail, in the middle of where I put my feet when I walk.  He suggested--and I am not kidding about this--that I put Crusher in a bag and bring him to school.  Gasp.  I will not be doing that. Never ever. I absolutely do not want Crusher to thaw himself out in a bag that I am holding. 

Ben asked about Crusher again today.  Did you bring him, he (fearlessly) asked. Oh, I suppose he's buried under the new snow, I assured him (ok, myself). We had a little conversation about the wonders of nature and just as I was starting to feel a little progress in the Squirm Department, Biology Ben says this (and I kid you not):

...and you should see the May flies in the spring near Lake Erie--yeah, they're so dense that they use bulldozers to clear the dead ones away....

Ew.  Really, really big ew.

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