Clipboard Collection

I don’t actively collect any specific item. It’s a good thing, too, as I seem to collect things [pick one: accidentally, inadvertently, unknowingly]. I have a box collection, “just in case.” I keep my envelope collection in such a box. When I cleaned out my closet, I discovered a hanger collection. Recently I went through a short decluttering phase and came across yet another collection I was unaware of: clipboards, of all things.

I know where I got the purple, doubledeckers (they open up to store paper and pens inside). They came from agility and tracking seminars, provided as part of the class materials. (I’ve been to way more than three canine seminars, but clipboards weren’t supplied at all of them.)

Purple Clipboards

Purple Clipboards

The next category is pressboard clipboards. The big one is for working on art outdoors. The other two are legal-sized and miniature.

Pressboard Clipboards

Pressboard Clipboards

The category with the largest quantity is the plastic, colorful clipboards. I sort of know how I got all of these. I decided that I needed a clipboard for some of my activities; “a” clipboard, as in “one.” I purchased one, brought it home, loaded it up with paper . . . and never saw it again. Next time at the store, bought another one, brought it home, loaded it up and never saw it again. Repeat until I have all of these. Later, much later, I decide to straighten things up a bit. When I came across the second clipboard (surprised as all get out), I decided to put them in the same place so I know where they were. Make that “where they all were.” I’d say “brilliant idea!” but it’s not so brilliant when I’m just cleaning up after myself only to find I bought the same item several times. Okay, eight times, and that’s not counting the two miniature clipboards in the middle.

Plastic, colored clipboards

Plastic and pretty

I’m pretty sure there are at least two more clipboards around here somewhere. I’ll probably find them in my next straightening up phase. The first straightening up phase is over; can’t take these things too seriously. Besides, now I have a collection of clipboards. I’m not sure they count as clutter anymore.

I know, I know. The first step towards a solution is acknowledging you have a problem.

Nope, I’m not there yet.

As Bad As The Dogs

Dogs are fascinated with wiggly, squiggly things, snakes included. Over the years, we’ve had seven rattlesnake bites to our dogs. Fortunately, none died from the bites. There are a lot of variables in a rattlesnake bite that go into a dog’s chances of surviving: the amount of venom injected (not all bites inject the same amount of venom), the age and size of the dog, the site of the bite, the treatment (if any is given). Our dogs are always up-to-date on the vaccine for the Western Diamondback Rattlesnake, developed by Red Rock Biologics. (A dog so vaccinated still needs professional care, if bitten.)

For the dogs, the rattling sound is a big “Over Here!” signal, just opposite of what the snake is saying. One dog will rush over to the sound and the other dogs, who notice that the first dog is in hunt mode, scramble over to huddle and nose their way in, trying to ensure they are not left out of any potential predatory activity.

Even when the snake has moved away (or has been dispatched by other methods), the dogs will hunt that specific spot as long as they can smell something. Once any remnant of odor is dissipated, however, that spot becomes a normal part of the landscape and they ignore it unless a new attention flag is raised.

Not for me, however.

Although we’ve had seven rattlesnake bites to our dogs, we’ve come across more than seven rattlesnakes. And even though the rattlesnakes either get away or they don’t, I always remember where they were. Unlike the dogs, I check that spot forever and ever. It doesn’t make much sense doing that, as there is no law of nature that says snakes can only be found in a given location. In this regard, I am as bad as the dogs. Worse, really, as I never drop a specific rattlesnake location off of my radar. It’s emotional and illogical, I know.

Now when I go out the back door, I peek around the corner . . . just in case.

A rattlesnake sighting location

There was a snake there . . . once.

Clint was bit by a snake on the back porch. It’s free of snake hiding places (mostly).

a snake sighting location

Is that a plant or a green snake?

I had to pull back the dogs as they had a rat snake cornered here; not a poisonous snake, but large (5 feet long?) and dangerous nevertheless. I had to use the homemade snake noose to relocate the snake to the front pond, apologizing the whole way.

Corner where a snake was

A cornered snake is an unhappy snake

Poor Yoda got bit twice, four years between the first bite and the second. The second bite was in the dog pen, only a few hours after we got home from the vet, getting the dogs their rattlesnake vaccine. We think the vaccines help.

a snake sighting location

A snake location in the dog pen

And then there is everywhere else a snake can be, and has been, found. One does not just sit down at the picnic table in our yard. First there is the reconnaissance circle around the table, then peeking underneath for wasps. It’s always something.

Picnic table

Yes, even under the picnic table.

I’m hoping we don’t have any more rattlesnake sightings. I have enough places on my checklist and it takes me longer and longer to get from Point A to Point B. Unrealistic and illogical, but that’s they way it is.