For the last seven months, I have been clearing the basement of snakes and spiders. They've been there for years, growing in numbers, hungry and lurking. When I was working, when I was focused, they stayed in the basement. Mostly. I learned to keep them there. No one liked it if they came out. No one.
Now, after retirement, I've wandered. The snakes and spider crawled out and filled the house. Some days they win. They're in my bed and clothes. At best, they wiggle and skitter. Many days, they bite and the venom runs deep.
With due care and effort, I have been wrangling them. They're elusive and scatter. Some days they fight. Some days it takes all my effort, but slowly, carefully, I've been putting them in mason jars and old cottage cheese containers and closing the lid. A few, I have escorted out of the house and convinced not to return. I may have squashed a few, but most are lying dormant and hibernating, resting in their jars. I hope they will stay that way, but I know, here and there, eventually, one or two will break out and may try to free their kin, and I if I am not careful, I will have to start the whole process again.
