My parents don’t have internet access on the farm, so after church on Sunday morning, we returned to my house so they could read my Sneaky Snake blog.

I remember listening to the song "Sneaky Snake" while growing up … I just couldn’t remember if it was from Mom’s collection of 45′s or my oldest brother’s array of tunes. Growing up on the farm, we didn’t have a whole lot of choice. We had no music videos on our television, so we would often dig into Mom’s stash of old-time records or Kevin’s collection that ranged from Alabama to Twisted Sister.

Anyway … growing up on a farm midway between Lake Ocheda and Lake Bella, I’ve seen more than my share of garter snakes (any more than one snake is too many!)

And, with three brothers, you can about imagine why I hate snakes. Too many times they’d pick one up by the tail and chase after me as I cried and screamed and ran for my life! (Unfortunately, their children … the nieces and nephews who are supposed to be nice to their Auntie Juwee … have also discovered the so-called "fun" in doing this.)

My earliest recollection of a snake encounter was when I was about three years old.

My mom was hanging a load of wet clothes out on the line, and I was standing near the sidewalk.

I saw a snake slither toward me and started to scream for Mom to come get me. She had her hands full though, and told me to step inside the wire egg basket that was sitting near the clothesline.

I took one look at the wire basket and knew it wasn’t going to protect me. If anything, the snake would slide right between the wires and join me in there!

I don’t recall how I escaped the wrath of that particular snake, but to this day, snake sightings still freak me out.

I figure it’s a good thing I grew up on a farm, because my screams would probably wake up an entire neighborhood in town!

"Boys and girls take warning, if you go near the lake
Keep your eyes wide open, and look for sneaky snake
Now maybe you won’t see him, maybe you won’t hear
But he’ll sneak up behind you, and drink all your root beer

And then sneaky snake goes dancin’, wigglin’ and a-hissin’
Sneaky snake goes dancin’, gigglin’ and a-kissin’…" — Tom T. Hall

A co-worker came into the newsroom the other day and said she had a story about a snake. Apparently aware of my aversion to snakes, she said, " Oh Julie, you don’t want to hear this."

Well, what happens when someone doesn’t think you should hear something? You want to hear it, of course!

So she told a few of us in the newsroom about this woman from the Twin Cities who had a pet boa constrictor in her house. The snake wasn’t eating and, concerned for its health, she took it to the veterinarian.

The vet asked her if she kept the snake in its cage, or if it was let out to roam. She admitted that, yes, on occasion, she let it free to slither around her apartment. Then she told the vet that sometimes she let the snake crawl up in bed with her.

She said the snake would stretch out alongside her …

And that’s when the vet had heard enough.

The reason the snake wasn’t eating, and the reason it was stretching out alongside of her … was because it was sizing her up to see if he could devour her!

Needless to say, the snake stayed with the veterinarian!

Now, I can be pretty gullible, but I have no reason not to believe this story. The idea of someone allowing a snake in their bed is the most disgusting thing I’ve heard of … but hey, who am I to judge!

The story made me cringe, but I went on with my work … even forgetting about it after a while.

And then I went to bed.

Naturally, the first thing that crept into my mind was the vision of a boa constrictor stretching out beside me!

You know how, when you eat something really sour, you shake your head … your arms … your back … anything to ease the sourness?

Well, my head, my arms and my back were shuddering at the thought, so I buried my head in my pillow and tried to drown out the visions. Yech!

Next time someone tells me I won’t want to hear a story, I’m going to take his or her word for it … I don’t care how curious I think I am!