TERRE HAUTE — I expect to share the earth with God’s creatures. That doesn’t mean I have to like them all, and I draw the line at snakes.
I was, however, determined not to pass on my “irrational” fears to my sons. I think I oversold.
When Number One son first toddled out to the sandbox and let out a shriek, I rushed to the rescue to discover that he was frightened by a couple of box elder bugs sunning themselves in HIS territory. I picked one up, let it crawl over my hand and talked soothingly about the nice red and black colors and how harmless they were. After that I don’t think he feared any living creature.
He must have been napping the day I won the Illinois State Laundry Toss when I left the house with a basket full of wet laundry and, only at the last minute, spotted a garden snake sunning on the bottom step leading to the back yard. Pity he wasn’t there to pick it up, let it crawl over HIS hand and talk soothingly about the yellow and black stripes and how harmless garden snakes are.
But, we have had goldfish, chameleons, a rooster (which he hatched in a home-made incubator) and a couple of praying mantis. In fact, “Mickey Mantis” went with us on vacation. Number One secured a jar full of live crickets and Mickey munched away as we tooled down the highway. Fortunately, Mickey is a generic name because she laid a nest of eggs behind the dining room drapes. Much to Number One’s disappointment, they didn’t hatch.
And, yes, we have had snakes.
He picked one up on a walk along the Mississippi River when we visited my Aunt Ethel. Auntie did about the same thing I had done with the bugs. She plugged up her bathtub and put the snake in there while we went out to lunch and the tub was too steep and too slick for the snake to climb out.
Of course, Number One wanted to bring it home, so Auntie punched holes in the lid of a coffee can and I got to spend the night with a snake who slept in the can in the shower of the motel. I did without a shower.
Or, there was the snake he picked up in his grandmother’s garden. He failed to mention it and it got loose in the car. We didn’t find it until we were just south of Rockville and I ordered him and his slithery pal out! Number Two said, “He’s really mad, Mom!” and I replied, “Not half as mad as I am.”
Maybe snakes are no worse than box elder bugs, but don’t try to convince me.
Liz Ciancone is a retired
Tribune-Star reporter. Her column has appeared on this page for more than 20 years. Send e-mail to opinion@tribstar.com.
Liz Ciancone
Ms. Takes: It’s just hard to love a snake
- Liz Ciancone
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Good grief. What next?
I read recently that there is a movement underfoot to cease teaching cursive writing in the public schools. I understand that this is merely a suggestion and is optional, but still …
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On or about Dec. 1, I picked up the mail to find three Christmas cards along with an unusual spate of catalogs. The cards reminded me that mine were still in the bottom drawer of the desk waiting to be addressed. I appreciated that.
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Mark Bennett’s delightful story of how his son acquired Barry Larkin’s autograph reminded me of how Number Two son scored the signature of Mike Ditka.
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I told my Best Friend the other day that I thought I’d write about growing up stupid. “We weren’t stupid,” said he, “we were just sheltered and naive.” He’s right. We had no idea that there were people and things in the world that would want to hurt us.
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MS. TAKES: Some look forward to spring and garage sales
We are officially into winter and just days after the longest day of the year. We can begin counting the days until spring and can look forward to waking up to a bit of sun.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Let gifts to lawmakers help cut the deficit
In the holiday spirit of giving, I’d like to pass along to Congress a tip I ran across in my reading. If adopted, it would enable the competing parties in Washington, D.C. to enhance federal income without raising taxes or reducing social programs.
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It’s going to be a Merry Christmas for the Albert Pujols family this year!
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I had an especially dear friend who went into a blue funk in Christmas season. She once threatened to spell out “Bah, Humbug!” in twinkle lights on her lawn.
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I understand the Indiana Legislature intends to work to produce a “right to work” bill this coming session.
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Somehow, in the vast scheme of things, I have ended up point person for holiday baking.
I know how it happened. Mom was a great cook. I’d give almost anything if I had found her recipe for raisin sugar cookies or the chocolate-orange cake. She turned out coffee cakes, sweet rolls, bread, butterfly rolls and sweet surprises. We always had dessert.
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Mom always told me to be sure I never left the house with torn or dirty underwear. She usually added a warning about being hit by a truck or a bus, or some other catastrophe befalling, so that I’d be carted off to the hospital where my tattered underwear would become a matter of public record and private shame.
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Is there anyplace left where there is no noise — other than the comforting noises of nature?
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Family vacations were a given. Dad usually had a 10-day vacation every summer and the only question was where we would go for the best fishing.
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When I cast my memory back far enough, it seems as if I have always been stage struck.
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I like horses. Really! I do. I like them best seen from the windows of a car as they graze in a lovely spring pasture. I even like them on television as they do a parade lap before the start of a major race. But I draw the line at a second experience on the back of a horse.
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I was pleased to read that the Department of Homeland Security plans to ease up on airport checkpoints. Not for the likes of you and me, but there will be no more “pat downs” of small children. Wee ones won’t even have to take off their shoes.
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Remember the old “Readers’ Digest” feature: “The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met?”
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LIZ CIANCONE: Memories of 9/11: Hairpin vapor trails
Those of us who have been around awhile remember a lot of stuff. Not only do critical moments in our lives loom large, we also remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when history was being made.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Today’s girls have more opportunity than ever
I confess. I had a bit of a battle with the green-eyed monster the other morning. The newspaper had pictures of high school girls playing soccer with a team from another school, and with obvious joy and pleasure.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Lesson 1: School is not a drag
Not long ago I ran across an old letter I had written to Dad when I was five years old. He had saved it!
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LIZ CIANCONE: Charter schools won’t solve all of education’s problems
A friend asked me the other day what I thought of Tony Bennett.
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I was asked the other day if I still used a typewriter.
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Only 24-hours after returning from vacation, our mail person delivered a two-week accumulation of mail. Our mailbox overflowed!
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LIZ CIANCONE: Achoo! Summer cold is something to sneeze at!
Of all the miseries visited upon mankind, I think that the summer cold wins the door prize!
My Best Friend and I opened our third box of tissues Sunday, a BIG box, not your handy, pocket-size job. We added tissues to the shopping list assuming that one or the other of us will soon feel like getting out. I know I’m ready to go someplace, ANYplace, as long as it’s out!
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I’ve heard it said that everyone has a doppleganger — a look-alike — and if that’s true, I suppose that somewhere in the world is a person who looks enough like me to be mistaken for me. Maybe it would take a dim light, or a vivid imagination, but for what it’s worth …
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LIZ CIANCONE: A little bit of cursive comes in handy








