A little background:
I remodeled a house to create a multi-generational living situation. The lower level was completely redone before occupancy, and the upstairs kitchen/dining area was remodeled this past winter, by a different contractor. There is shared space upstairs, my daughter has her own space on that same level, and my space is downstairs. And my other daughter lives two houses over. This is all relevant to our tale.
I am very happy with the engineering and structural changes that my first contractor did in the lower level, and the sheetrock work was first-rate. However, there were some errors made in some of the finish work that caused increased costs and distress, and periodically I have found additional issues that are left over from that work. This is also relevant to our tale.
Monday afternoon:
The upstairs cat comes and visits several times a day, and sometimes has an upset tummy. I was sitting on my couch in my living space, and I saw something on the rug under the bookcase. From 10 feet away, it appeared to have been a small string of cat barf. That would be gross, but not unheard of. I got a paper towel and walked toward the bookcase, but something was not quite right. I bent over to look, and I realized it was a slender little brown snake. (!) About 5-6 inches long, and as big around as a small earthworm. (BTW, slender little brown snakes in North America are harmless. But they still should not be In. The. House.)
(not the actual snake)
I hate snakes.
No, really. When I see a photo of a snake in a magazine or online, I turn the page or scroll past. Quickly. Don't even want to look. If I encounter one outside, I just say "Hi, snake" and walk the other way - the outdoors is their space. But a snake in my house? Nope. Nope. Nope.
Now, if you know me, you know that I am a fairly bold individual, and I typically jump into "let's fix this!" mode. And there is NO WAY I was going to approach this slender little snake. Nope. I moved quickly to the stairs and called to my daughter Eryn to come down RIGHT NOW. She confirmed that, yes, it's a snake, and oh - the snake was now on the move. At which point I jumped behind the couch. There may have been a little shrieking. And she jumped back as well, without the shrieking. We quickly decided that we needed someone to save us from this slender little snake, so I called Liz - my other daughter. Because her husband has to be around other people at work, we have been properly socially distancing since March, and she has not been in my house since then. But, to quote Hippocrates, desperate times call for desperate measures. Liz gloved and masked up and came right over from her house to save us from the slender little snake, coaxing it into a container and releasing it out into the backyard. Whew!
But, how did the snake get into the house? We discussed and dismissed a number of ideas, and nothing really made sense. Hmmm.
Monday evening:
After having a nice Memorial Day BBQ and fire pit in the backyard with my kids (socially distant, of course), I sat down in my living space to watch the 10 PM news after cleaning up my downstairs kitchen area. The upstairs cat was visiting and kept walking over and staring at the backdoor, and I finally got up and went over to look at what she was seeing. There, on my kitchen floor, was a tiny slug. On my kitchen floor. About 1/2 of an inch long. A slug. On my kitchen floor.
I sent a series of texts to Eryn, as I tried to figure out #1, how did the slug get in my kitchen and #2, what would work best to remove it. And then, a solo slug visit became a party of two.
(The person whose name is blocked out we will call "Tom". His name is not "Tom".)
Eryn came downstairs (again), with a flashlight. There was no shrieking from either of us - we are apparently not as freaked out about slugs. They just don't belong in the house. Ever.
At this point, I was determined to thwart any additional invasion attempts by belly-crawling creatures who may have decided that my house is a nice place to visit, and began to investigate how in the world they were getting in (after scooping each slug onto a small trowel and returning them to the outside). The flashlight helped us determine that no other creatures had gotten in, and that the space around my backdoor threshold was not sealed properly. My well-stocked garage includes various tubes of silicone sealant, and I embarked upon home repair. At 11:00 at night. Which I should not have been doing, if "Tom" had done his job. This was not the first evidence of "Tom" not doing his job, which is why there was a different contractor for the 2nd phase of my remodel, but that is something for another story, another time.
Tuesday:
The silicone seems to have done its job - it has filled in the previously unsealed area, and there are no belly-crawling creatures in my house. It is my hope that this is the end of the Unanticipated Excitement.
I hate snakes.
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