The first thing you
should know is that I used
to suffer from a snake phobia.
The operative word there
is phobia. It wasn’t just a
matter of disliking snakes.
It wasn’t a fear of being bitten.
It wasn’t a simple reluctance
to touch their impossibly
dry, nimble
bodies.
I was phobic. It was a
fear completely devoid of
reason or logic.
The technical term for it
is ophidiophobia. The lay
term for it is buuuuuhhhhuuuuuuugh.
Or maybe it’s
aaaiiiiiieeeeeeeekkkk!!!!!!
There are different levels of
severity.
I avoided outdoor experiences
because of the possibility
that I might see a
snake. Just see one.
When the family went to
zoos, I stayed outside while
they toured the reptile exhibits.
Once, while riding in a
car down the long strip of
highway that runs the
length of Pensacola Beach
in Florida, we saw a rattle
snake making its way
across the sweltering asphalt.
I screamed.
Let me repeat that: I
was inside a car traveling
some 55 miles per hour,
and when I saw a snake on
the street, I screamed and
curled into a fetal position.
Thank goodness I wasn’t
behind the wheel.
So, a few weeks ago
when I wrote about Serpentina,
the snake who hangs
out in the garden along our
front path, it wasn’t just a
reflection on my relationship
to my surroundings. It
was a reflection on my relationship
to my internal
landscape as well.
I no longer have a snake
phobia, and that’s just one
of about half a dozen irrational
fears that no longer
take precious time out of
my days.
Flying in airplanes, needles,
surgery, hospitals,
driving on rainy roads,
driving on snowy roads,
driving on roads that may
become rainy or snowy...
Gone.
How my fears left me is
complicated and boring. I
survived cancer. I became
intimate with a number of
my phobias, and they became
ordinary, everyday
elements of my life.
I do not recommend that
route to phobia mitigation.
There are easier ways.
Suffice to say that I once
had a snake phobia, and
now I do not. Until one recent
morning.
Our little dog Murphy,
who is not yet a year old
and not yet predictable in
his behavior, had nevertheless
gotten into the habit of
walking alongside his people
out to the dogs’ fenced
area. Unfortunately, he figured
out that the horrible
piglike smell that was coming
from across the meadow
was indeed produced by our
two pigs. For days, any time
someone opened the front
door, Murphy bolted out
and headed around the
back of the house, away
from his fence, toward the
pigs. I can understand his
fascination. They’re very
smelly and big — each one
about 10 times his size.
Of course, these jaunts
never happened at convenient
times. Somehow, he
always decided to visit his
pig friends when I was running
late for a meeting or
trying to get the girls to
school.
That’s exactly what happened
on the morning in
question. Posey was already
in the car, waiting to
be driven to school. I had
run up to the house to get
one last thing, and as I was
closing the door behind me,
Murphy bolted — a streak
of red and white fluff
around the back of the
house.
I darted after him, but
was halted in my tracks by
not one, but two snakes.
One slithered through the
grass to the left and into
the Queen Anne’s lace. The
other headed to the right
and the embankment covered
in myrtle. It stopped,
and looked at me, presumably
to determine whether
I was holding a hoe.
That’s when I realized
that, surrounding the snake
on the hill just a few feet
from me and my bare, besandaled
toes, were five
others. Six snakes — seven
if you count the one over in
the Queen Anne’s lace.
Seven snakes. I could
feel 14 little eyes on me. All
of us still and silent. Waiting.
Seven snakes.
It seems like you should
have to be on a vision quest,
or fall asleep with Jim Morrison
playing on the stereo
to see something like that.
I was the one who backed
down first. I turned,
walked back to my porch
and called for Murphy with
promises of cookies. He returned
and the day went
on as planned.
For weeks, though, I
was unable to take that
route to the backyard. I
started going the long way
around. I got jumpy walking
up my front path, and
quickened my steps because
I knew they were
there. I knew they were
looking at me.
I researched ways to get
rid of snakes, and learned
that direct, hand-to-snake
combat is the only surefire
method.
I began to wonder
whether a mongoose can
make a decent pet.
Fears are powerful like
that. They enter through
the keyhole of a bad experience
or two, then multiply
exponentially. They
change the pattern of living
around them. They’re
bossy and sneaky and
shrill.
They’re worse than
snakes, and much, much
more vicious.
And even when you
think you’ve gotten rid of
them, they can make another
appearance and start
to build nests in the corners
of your life.
It pays to exterminate
them.
Elizabeth Trever Buchinger
has a hoe and she’s
not afraid to use it. You
can connect with her at
www.moremindfulfamily.
wordpress.com.
Columns
This Wonderful Life: I sssssseeeeeee you there
- Columns
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In These Otsego Hills: The losses are adding up ...
It is with sadness that we note the passing of long time friend, and distantrelative, Jane Patrick. Over the years we have worked with Jane in a number of organizations including Women’s Club and the Community Advisory Committee at Bassett. And, of course, in later years we joined her, along with the other Dinner Belles, for any number of delicious meals. But we do think that our favorite memory that we shared with Jane was when we discovered, having both married Cooperstown natives, that we shared Cooperstown Christmas plans.
Continued ... -
Up On Hawthorn Hill: Bird Feeder?
Bird feeder is a relative term. At least that is the case around here. A few mornings ago we spotted the first rabbit to visit the feeders. Normally, all we see during the winter are rabbit tracks crisscrossing the gardens.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Cheers for the Blue Rabbit!
My handwriting’s always been an embarrassment. Way back in elementary school, while most of the others were developing a clear, sometimes graceful hand (especially the girls), my penmanship showed no improvement.
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In These Otsego Hills: This and that ...
We have found the weather so far this year to be on the unusual side. And while we have no problem with the fact that we have received very little snow, we are of the opinion that what we have had instead is not particularly to our liking either. In fact, we are very hesitant to venture out much as we live in fear that the rain will turn to mixed precipitation which will freeze into a sheet of ice. And we are definitely opposed to encountering a sheet of ice underfoot. In fact, we are so hesitant that we now have taken to canceling our participation in events based on what just might be a dubious forecast.
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Book Notes: Feinstein’s latest is sheer enjoyment
Most people who follow sports have probably heard of John Feinstein. As a nationally known author, sportswriter, pundit and broadcaster, he has brought a unique angle to sports journalism. His groundbreaking book on Bobby Knight’s 1986-87 Indiana University basketball team, “A Season on the Brink,” still resonates today as an all-time classic.
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Book Notes: No Trekkie should miss Shatner’s books
It would be hard to find a television phenomenon as popular as “Star Trek.” Even though it was only on television for three seasons and 79 episodes (1966-69) it attracted viewers and devotees that still follow it passionately 45 years later. The fanatical supportspawned several movies and television spinoffs. Star Trek conventions continue to this day. There has never been anything like it.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Making sense of things
A book I have been reading investigates the various ways over time that we have made sense of the world. It carries the reader through to the present via several seminal classical texts and ultimately aims to suggest a strategy for “ finding meaning in a secular age.”
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In These Otsego Hills: ‘Property must be secured or liberty cannot exist.’ − John Adams
Last week we were asked if we would be interested in previewing a documentary, “The Empire State Divide,”produced by the Foundation for Land & Liberty. And we were more than happy to do so as we understood the documentary dealt with the problems that continue to face family farms.
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From Fly Creek: Now wait a minute!
On the ninth day of Christmas, driving down Cooperstown’s Eagle Street, I saw something astounding! No, not “nineladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans” etc. I saw one jogger jogging. And puffing on a cigarette.
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In These Otsego Hills: Goals of the past and goals of the future
We have long subscribed to the concept that we are always more successful if we, number one, set a goal and then, number two, meet it. And this was our thinking when we decided before Christmas to watch at least part of every college football bowl game. It was perhaps an odd, if not completely nonsensical, goal.
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In These Otsego Hills: Not to our liking ...
It is with sadness that we note the recent death of Steve Nagel. The son-inlaw of our late husband’s cousins, Alice and Harvey Eckler of Fly Creek, Steve was married to the Ecklers’ oldest daughter, Gail. We had the pleasure of spending Christmas Eve with the Nagels and the Ecklers in Fly Creek, greatly enjoying the delicious food and delightful conversation.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Of birds and faith
I watch birds quite a bit. Every five days or so I send in a report to Cornell as partof its annual Project Feeder Watch program. The data, collected from volunteers from all over the country, enables scientists to track population trends. I would spend quite a bit of time checking out the visitors to our feeders anyway. Participating in the feeder program makes a personal pleasure that much more meaningful. It is rare that aesthetical and scientific endeavors work in tandem.
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Book Notes: Biography captures the real Stephen Colbert
It would be hard to find a comedian as unique as Stephen Colbert. As the host of “The Colbert Report” on Comedy Central he hasmanaged to leave his mark on the nation’s consciousness in both a serious and humorous sort of way. His unusual wit has allowed him to become American icon. It would be difficult to find another entertainer quite like him.
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From Fly Creek: Christmas and varied blessings
I’m still astounded! The last farmers’ market before Christmas, I was sitting up front, directly under the ceiling heater, shmoozing with the hoi-polloi. (That’s an awkward linguistic mix,but let’s let it go.) As I sipped my hot coffee, a gloved hand came to rest on my shoulder and a warm voice said, “Merry Christmas, Jim.” I looked to my left—it was Santa Claus!
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In These Otsego Hills: Always a learning experience ...
We must admit that we thoroughly enjoyed our 2011 Christmas celebration. We partook of Christmas Eve dinner at the home of Alice and Harvey Eckler of Fly Creek and Christmas Day dinner at the home of Sandy and Al Bullard of Milford. We had our usual Christmas Day brunch at home on Pioneer Street, although we must admit it was a tad bit later than usual as, what we enjoyed most about Christmas, namely our granddaughter Abby, took a great deal of time opening her Christmas presents.
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In These Otsego Hills: Coming up ... 2012
Difficult as it seems, 2011 is fast coming to an end. And it is always our hope that as a year draws to a close, the issues which have been in the forefront during the year will be resolved. Unfortunately, we suspect that will not be the case this year. Instead, we are fairly certain that many of the issues that plagued this year, will continue to plague next year. Thus we will find ourselves still musing about the same issues we have spent time with already. And while we have not come toany conclusions about many of the issues, we do think they would all likely benefit from both sides thinking critically about perspective, risk assessment and possible solutions.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Circularity
When she was a puppy my dog Gabby would run in what I described then as “circles of joy.” She celebrated her15th birthday a few weeks ago and despite the inevitable frailties that old age imposes upon all of us, she is doing pretty well.
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Book Notes: Grisham doesn’t disappoint
John Grisham is one of this country’s most popular authors. Every time he publishes a book it’s an instant best-seller. He appeared on the scene about 20 years ago with his tense legal thrillers, “A Time to Kill” and “The Firm,”and hasn’t stopped producing top-notch novels since.
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From Fly Creek: Still singing, beyond our hearing
This column from Christmas 2001 still speaks deeply to me, and perhaps will to you, too. Take it, please, as my Christmas gift.
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In These Otsego Hills: The 2011 Cooperstown Carol
Since 1984, with the exception of one year, 1999, we have looked forward at the end of the year to going through all the issues of the paper in order to glean those news items which have been worthy of note throughout the year and which should make their way into our annual Cooperstown Carol.
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In These Otsego Hills: The losses are adding up ...
