I tried. I knew that the men in my life would want me to go back out there and mow the back yard, and not let some icky rat keep me from my appointed duties.
Now, let me stress that the grass in our back yard was not all that long. It's been worse. And, what with all the citrus trees around, rodents are found around these parts; it happens. Also, that there's a drainage canal-type thing behind us. Finally, my neighbor kills snakes whenever he encounters them; critters which are fabulous for keeping down the rodent population.
So I went out there, watching my step, ever cautious. I decided to mow the back part of the lawn farthest from the creepy shed of horror (once I saw this icky pale pasty frog there too!). So I rolled the lawn mower several feet away, started the thing...
...and three fucking rats ran out of the yard toward the canal. I swear, one of them was right under the mower. I screamed. Apparently, "Jesus Christ!" is my exclamation of choice when really scared.
So Godfrey had to mow the back yard. I made him check out the front yard thoroughly before I would mow it.
Hehehehe. I'm all for not confronting fears. There's just something unnerving about seeing a rat in your personal space that isn't supposed to be there. But what gets me the worst are black widdows. Other varieties of spider I'm fine with, but black widows just CREEP ME OUT. Period. Back when I was living at home with el Madre, I had my fabric and sewing supplies stored down in the basement. There happened to be an explosion of black widdows down there right around the same time. I got absolutely no sewing done for months and months while the continued to take over the basement.
Thankfully I don't appear to have relocated any of them with my fabric stash.
