Bad day to be a snake....

I called my husband today to tell him there was a snake in the downstairs loo.  I don't think he believed me, so I (bravely) took a picture to show him.  The good thing here, is that my husband is from Africa, so he knows a thing or two about snakes, and holds the firm belief that 'a good snake is a dead snake'.  I'm not too keen on killing things, especially if it's just for being whatever it is.  but, sorry snake, I agree with my husband here, and you were for it, I'm still feeling awful about the whole thing.  So, with instructions from the husband (it involves a rake), the snake got it, then was unceremoniously thrown on the other side of the hedge into the paddock.  If that wasn't bad enough, the paddock was mown today, so if it survived the rake, it probably didn't survive the lawn mower.  Why am I feeling so bad - firstly, I've never had to deal with anything so big (yes, I've swatted the odd fly), and secondly, turns out it was a harmless grass snake.  The moral is, think before you attack with the garden rake.  

Had a coffee this afternoon with my lovely new friends, one of whom is about to move, bit sad about that.  The boys had a lovely time running around with their children and I had a lovely time drinking coffee and chatting, whilst sort-of watching the boys. Needed the coffee to get over the snake.