You Might Be from Georgia When....

... One of the first things you learned in kindergarten was "red on yella, kill a fella, red on black, venom lack." We used to chant this in unison, and I'm pretty sure it was on a test.

I mentioned this to one of my co-workers (he's from Maine and thinks beaches have rocks), and he was baffled. "Red what?" he asked. I wanted to prove that only a Yankee from Maine wouldn't know this rhyme, so I asked my co-workers from North Carolina. They were equally confused.

Apparently, this is only a thing if you grow up surrounded by swamps and woods infested with cuddly creatures like coral snakes, cottonmouths, rattlers and gaters.

For those of you from climates friendlier to human life, here is a visual:

Now all you need to do is learn how to blow gnats off your face and you're good to go.

Seven Quick Takes: Attack of the Squirrel

It's not a scorpion invasion, and it's not a sofa full of rat babies. (My apologies to Jennifer Fulwiler and Hallie Lord, by the way - no one should have to suffer like that). On the other hand, who expects a squirrel in their apartment?

1. I was taking a long, relaxing (ha!) bath when I heard a crash. Normally I am the cause of crashes in our household. Let's just say that in the year and a half I've been married, I have broken a glass table that wasn't even ours, smashed a serving dish that my mama gave us for Christmas, and (just this week) broken a gradual cylinder that my husband's grandfather used for chemistry labs in college back in the 1940s. I have panic attacks in antique stores. However, this clearly wasn't my fault.

2. My first thought was "great, I've finally lost my last scrap of sanity, and now I'm hearing things." I was wondering whether our insurance would cover permanent commitment to a padded room when my husband yelled "what was that?" Instant relief.

3. Followed by instant panic. Please note: I was in the tub, so clearly I could not go investigate. It had nothing to do with cowardice about creatures in the apartment, and if I'd been dressed and spry I would have fearlessly entered the field. As it was, my husband wandered towards the sound of the crash.

4. "There's a $#&*ing squirrel in our apartment!" "Are you $*%^ing me?" "Would I make this up?"

5. I had to see it. I wrapped myself in a towel and peered around the door. I didn't expect it to be so close to my bare feet; I screamed, ran back to the bathroom and slammed the door. The squirrel was equally terrified - he jumped a foot in the air when I screamed. 

6. My husband's reaction was to video the critter on his phone. Unfortunately, he missed the part where it went into a blind panic and (in my husband's words) "took a flying leap" into the glass door.

7. Somehow, my husband's method of opening the door and saying "Here squirrel, come on squirrel" worked, and the squirrel escaped. Miraculously nothing broke in the crash of kitchen window bottles into the sink (which means the squirrel is less klutzy than I am). We also discovered his mode of entry: he chewed a hole in the window screen above the kitchen sink.

(Picture forthcoming so you can get the full effect. Also, my husband got a fuzzy still image from the video he made. The video will not be posted on account of salty language, most of it from me).  However, the fuzzy image doesn't show much except how messy the living room is, so no dice.

To get the full appreciation for his tenacity, you must know that the booger had to climb a 5 foot brick wall in order to reach said window and chew his way in.

Jennifer, before you mock, please note that squirrels carry rabies. Do scorpions carry rabies? That's what I thought.