The locksmith eyed this birdfeeder and mentioned it might attract more bears than birds...oops.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

From ghoulies and ghosties And long-leggedy beasties And things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us!


Did you know there are natural springs gushing cool, crisp water from the deepest caverns of the earth, all over the state? And this water is free for the taking? Check out findaspring.com I love how one well's directions state "You will smell it when you get close". Hmmm, a little sulfur, perhaps?

I haven't been to one of these sites but I did see the gushing cave waters Jack Daniels Whiskey uses at the brewery. Just a big ol' hole of a cave with a continuous running cold stream flowing out.

If you've checked out any design stores lately, you'll see how far we've come from a hole in a rock.



The beauty of these sinks and faucets might cause my water bill to go up as I no doubt would stand and stare while brushing instead of turning the water off.




Running water in the house hasn't really been around too long. I can still remember visiting my Uncles Grady and Aubrey up in the mountains and needing to tee-tee. There weren't any indoor bathrooms, so I'd have to go out to the gray, weathered building and slide my little bottom up onto the the two-holer, hoping sweet Jesus would keep any snakes that lived in the 'hole' from jumping up and biting my hinie.

The outhouses we see in old movies always show a cute little half-moon cut-out on the door, but honestly, that was only in the movies.


Outhouses and well houses always looked like this, and you'd be lucky to find a Sears & Roebuck catalog for toilet paper. The yellow, index tissue-like papers were always the first to go.



I now know that snakes most likely don't live in outhouse holes, but seriously, what wildlife would you expect to find in an outhouse? Bunnies? Kittens? Puppies? Pshaw, as Miriam used to say. Look around in the next outhouse or well house and the only inhabitants you'll see are snakes, mice and poisonous spiders.

Nowadays, most all wells are electric so no more open walls and cute little wooden buckets tied to a long rope. Just imagine the great biceps and triceps these women developed hauling water up 300 feet every day!



Unfortunately, my very own well house houses not only my well, but my nemesis. He waits for me, peeking between the rotting wood boards and plots my demise. Could I step on him with my shoe, could I swat him down with a broom? Sure. But that would mean coming within striking distance and I've seen the size of his thighs...this spider can jump, I have no doubt and a death from fear is as bad as a death from venom.




This past week, I spent a couple of days on the mountain with the Spencer girls, mama and daughter. The daughter, bless her brave heart, turned on the water when we first arrived. She took nearly 15 minutes and I do believe I heard all sorts of screaming and flailing, but the water ran cold and that's all that mattered. Vacations eventually have to come to an end, and in the mountains, that means one thing.
Someone...has to go in the well house.

And, honestly, I try everything within my moral and ethical boundaries to keep that person from being me.

(Once, several months ago, it became necessary to make a midnight run to the hills to retrieve my forgotten text books, and Annette Day accompanied me. With the truck headlights shining through the woods and the night crickets shrill in the air, we inched our way to the rotten well house door, saying, "No, you go. NO, you go!" till I do believe one of us actually may have shoved the other one, and well, it might have been me but it was late and a while ago, and that just doesn't sound like something I would do.)

Barely recovered from that trauma, I found myself calmly explaining to Nancy how to just lean into the doorway, turn the handle and voila, you're done! I kept my eyes all innocent, hoping Nancy wouldn't see through my crafty plan. She actually seemed to consider this, until....she saw the spiders. (click the word spider then click your back button to return to blog)

The word 'spider' just doesn't do justice to these creatures. Wolf spiders are thick and furry and worst of all...have EIGHT EYES! It's like something out of an evil fairy tale, "Better to see you! *insert wicked laugh*"

THIS..is a wolf spider! I'm not kidding! Doesn't it look like some freaky cross between a tarantula and Bigfoot!?



And THIS is what their bite looks like! Ohmygosh, when I saw this, I actually got lightheaded. Nancy, I'm SO SORRY. And Annette, truly forgive me. Rachel, what can I say? I was putting all of your lives on the line! Oh my WORD! It's like a Vampire bite! We could have all died!!

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Okay, whew, it's off the page where I can't see it. We spent the better part of twenty minutes holding open the door with a stick, screaming, crying, sweating and saying, "you go, no you go, no you go, NO, you go!" till the door finally fell off its hinges with a ' WHOOOMPH!!', and nearly gave us both a heart attack.

One phone call later, Jack C. was down and turned off the water without even a care. He probably even had a wolf spider on his shoulder as he strolled back home. Good grief, how do men do that??

I hope Nancy has recovered, as she was rather pale by the time we got back in the car. I think her forehead was sweaty too. Rachel was laughing her rear end off as she stayed fifty feet back lest we somehow involve her again. Smart girl.

I'm now on a quest to find a remote-controlled way to get the water turned on. If you have any ideas, please let me know. In the meantime, if I invite you to the mountains, please accept my forgiveness up front as I'll no doubt try and con you into the well house.







2 comments:

  1. Frankly, from the stories I've heard from the victims, I'd say Miss Dana is stretching the boundaries of her "ethics".

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  2. I have fallen prey to your insistence of me turning the well on so you didnt have to :) hahaha oh dana, i love you!

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