Friday, October 10, 2014

At Least It Wasn't A Snake


               A surprising sight awaited me this morning.  I had already walked through the darkened dining room into the living room with my breakfast of coffee and Greek yogurt/sliced peaches/walnuts.  You see, my couch recliner is where I wake up with breakfast, laptop, and devotional.  I turned on the overhead light switch by the front door and went over to sit down—and then I saw it.
               Wriggling on the floor on its way to the dining room rug was a humongous earthworm.  A good six inches long, it was not navigating my hardwood floors very well.  Relieved that I had not stepped on it in the dark, I fetched a paper towel, gently picked it up, went out the front door, and deposited it in my front yard.
               Had the earthworm been spider or snake, I would not have been nearly so kind—or calm.  It is amazing what a difference lack of speed makes in my reaction to unwanted intruders.  There is, however, one thing that really bothers me:  How did the worm get inside my house?

               

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