Adventures With One of the World's Deadliest Snakes

On Saturday night, Liz and I sat down with some Chinese food and were ready to spend the evening in front of the TV. I was finishing up my Hokkein Noodles when the phone rang. Liz answered it and all I heard was, "What? A snake? Is she okay? Well, you should take her to the vet. What? I'll ask him..."

When Liz hung up, she said to me, "Mum thinks that her cat, Rosie, has been bitten by a Brown Snake. Now don't freak out, but she wants to know if you can kill it." I replied, "Aren't Brown Snakes amongst the deadliest snakes in Australia?" "Yes," she answered.

Now, being a man, I think I'm supposed to feel like a hunter in these situations. Deadly snake? Sure, no problem. Maybe I can skin it, eat it and make a pair of boots. After spending the day doing some house repairs and using power tools, I was feeling particularly masculine. So, I said, "Yeah, I can kill a Brown Snake. Let me go downstairs and get the shovel."

I should say here, that normally, I wouldn't kill a wild animal. However, Brown Snakes (also known as Eastern Brown Snakes, or the Common Brown Snake), are, of course, deadly. And Liz's mother, Christine, has 3 cats. If any of them died from a snake bite, she would be devastated.

So, we got in the car with the shovel and a flashlight in the back and headed to Christine's. On the way, I told Liz my plans to kill this snake. I would smash it on the head with the shovel until it was dead. I was running through the scenario in my head several times. I was ready to do this. I've seen Steve Irwin handle deadly snakes plenty of times. I would keep my distance and be alert.

When we got there, Christine took us around the back of her house and showed us the snake. It wasn't as big as I thought it would be. It was probably about 50 cm long and maybe 1.5 cm thick. It was still poisonous. Liz and Christine went back inside to put the cat in the cage. I said, "So, you want me to kill this thing?" From inside the house, they both replied in unison, "YES!"

The snake was coiled near the downpipe against the side of the brick house. I tapped it with the edge of the shovel and it slithered out into the lawn. I thought it was going to get away, so I raised the shovel above my head and brought it down with all my might on the snake's head. To my surprise, that didn't kill it. It reared up in an S-shaped stance ready to attack but then dropped down again. I hit it again and again. It was now lying on the ground and didn't move except for a nervous twitching of it's tail. I hit it one more time. When I thought it was dead, I hit it again. Then I hit it again just to make sure it was dead. I went inside and said, "Do you want to take the snake to the vet so they can identify it?" They thought that was a good idea and Liz brought me a plastic bag. I picked up the snake by the tip of it's tail and dropped it into the bag and tied it shut. Then the three of us got into the car and headed to the vet.

When we arrived, we were greeted by a blonde vet nurse. She took us to the back of the clinic where the vet, Simon, was operating on a rather large dog. I told the vet nurse I had brought the snake. She said, "Is it alive or dead?" I replied, "It's dead. Well, it better be dead after what I did to it." She took the bag and ripped open the bag and put the snake on the table. The snake seemed to move a bit. "It's alive!" she yelled. "What, really? Are you sure that wasn't a reaction from when you took it out of the bag?" I asked. The vet was standing there with a half-open dog on the table and there was a live Brown Snake in the same room. Everyone started to panic and eventually, the nurse got a cardboard box and covered it up.

When Simon stitched the dog up, he came over to inspect Rosie. He gave her some antivenin and decided to keep the cat overnight and see if she reacts to the snakebite in any way.
No one was keen to lift the box and see if the snake was alive or dead. No one, except the other vet nurse. She grew up in the country and she didn't seem to be scared at all. She lifted the box, and the snake didn't move. Then, she nudged the snake with the box and it started to move a bit. Everyone in the room, started to freak out a bit. Then the snake fell the the ground and started slithering along the floor. The nurse had pulled a hammer out of thin air (she must have grabbed it without me noticing) and she hit the snake on the head twice. That was it, the snake was surely dead. She put it back in the box and set it aside.

Everyone seemed to calm down then. I apologised for not killing the snake properly the first time.

We then went back to Christine's for a cup of tea. Liz joked, "If someone asks if you can kill a snake, I can say 'no'". Looking back on the whole situation, I am kind of freaked out by the fact that I picked up the snake while it was still alive. And, I had it in a plastic bag between my feet on the way to the vet. I know now, that if I have to kill a snake again, I will make sure I cut it's head off or something.

In the end, no harm actually came to the cat. She's fine and is now back at home.

Moving In and a Few Renovations

Well, it's almost three full weeks into 2008 so I suppose I should start off by saying "Happy New Year".

A lot has happened since my last post back in November, most importantly, we moved into our new house. It's really nice having our own place. There is a sense of freedom that I've never felt before in rental places. There's no recurring house inspections by the real estate company to make sure I'm not trashing the place. I don't have to worry about putting holes in the wall when I want to hang a picture. If I want to put a hole in the wall, I'm going to put a hole in the wall, damn it.

To date, we've already done a few things to the house. Before we moved in, the paint on the ceilings was flaking off. So, we had some of them painted and they look a thousand times better. Then, we decided to get some security screens installed. We got a security door installed in the back of the house and some Crimsafe window screens installed.

During the two week break we had in December/January, we decided to do some painting of our own. The sleep-out section of our house was in desperate need of painting. Some of the walls had flaking paint, one wall was painted a horrible deep red and another wall had really bad wallpaper that was peeling off. Liz and I spent several days painting the two rooms. The hardest part was all the preparation work. We scraped all the flaking paint, filled in any cracks or holes, then sanded all the walls, then washed them, then primed them. After that, we were able to apply two coats of paint. The prep work was well worth it though because the walls look great now. Incidentally, we ended up painting the walls almost the exact same colour that they were before (a sort of beige colour called "Putty"). We didn't realise this when we bought the paint, it just kind of happened. We also painted the windows and I took that opportunity to replace all the hardware on them (except the hinges). I replaced all the latches (called "spur catches") and, today, I finished installing the window stays. Below are some photos of the new window hardware:

Window Stay


Window Stay


Spur Catch


This weekend, we also hung up some curtains in the bedrooms. Future projects include painting the outside of the house, getting a water tank, renovating the bathroom and kitchen, possibly building a deck in the backyard, and knocking down the chicken coop.

I'll keep you posted on all of that in the future.

The House Inspection and the Inconsiderate Man

One of the consequences of buying a house is that we have to break our lease. This is not a really big deal - it means we have to pay 15 bucks to advertise it on the Internet, we have to pay one week's rent, plus we have to pay rent until they find another tenant. None of that really bothers me. However, it also means that we have to have house inspections. This usually wouldn't be a problem but we have cats that get freaked out by strangers. And these people aren't likely to keep the doors closed despite any number of signs that say "Please keep doors closed."

My first thoughts were that I would take the cats for a drive for about a half an hour until everyone was gone. Liz didn't like that idea because the cats do not like going in the car. Instead, Liz decided that we would put the cats in one of the bedrooms and shut the door. I would stand by the door and let people look in and make sure the cats didn't escape.

Liz didn't want to be home when people were walking through the house. And frankly, neither did I. But someone had to stand guard and protect the cats. So, Liz went out and refuelled the car and I stayed behind. There must have been about 30-40 people who came through. I was really surprised. Most of the people were university students but there were a few middle-aged people as well. It was pretty strange standing there while people were looking through the house and opening cupboard doors and some took pictures of the rooms. There was one moment when some guy opened up the bedroom door (despite the sign that said there were cats in the room) and Raph escaped. I had to run after him and managed to grab him on his way downstairs.

The inspection lasted about 20 minutes. I thought the number of people who showed up was a good sign, it might mean that we wont have to pay extra. There was only one thing that upset me. At the end of the inspection, one man who was there with his wife asked me if he could use the wash room. I gave him a look and thought about saying "Are you kidding?" Instead, I paused and said, "Sure." His wife looked at me and said "He just has to pee." I stood there with the wife and the real-estate agent while this guy took his time. Obviously not peeing. He came out, thanked me, and left with his wife. The real-estate agent said, "I can't believe that." I said, "did I have a choice?" I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go." But seriously, who does that?

The House

So, for those of you keeping track, Liz and I have grown up and bought a house. The settlement date is the 9th of November. We're pretty excited about the whole thing. We started watching DIY shows, thinking about paint colours and things like that.

I'm actually pretty nervous about all the work that we're going to have to do. I'm not the most handy person around. We're getting the outside and ceilings painted by professionals, but we're going to paint the inside walls. There's also a small amount of repairs needed for part of the roof. Apart from that, the house is pretty solid. We'd like to redo the kitchen and the bathroom eventually. We also want to plant a nice tree in the front. Perhaps a Jacaranda, an Illawarra Flame Tree, or a Trumpet Tree.

Here she is:



Here's the master bedroom with the bay window. The "sleep-out" section is in the background.



We're going to tear out these ugly cupboards in the kitchen and replace them with something nicer and more modern.



We have a coop! It was either for pigeons or chickens. We're getting rid of it. That's a pretty serious slab of concrete. I'll have to hire a jackhammer. That could take me days. I might befriend the neighbours before I get stuck into that job.



How cool is this old-skool built-in barbecue?



Here's under the house. The stumps are solid with no sign of termite infestation. There's room for a car or two in the background. There's also plenty of storage for tools and things. The washing machine goes down here too.



Here's the vestibule. I never thought I would have a vestibule. It leads into the living room and the dining room after that.



I'll post more photos as we move stuff in.

I've been missing out for 21 years

When I was 10 years old, my mother gave me a piece of trout for dinner. I think I remember enjoying it until after I ate it, my lips started to swell and my throat started to itch. I was having an allergic reaction. This was somewhat surprising since I had eaten other fish (turbot and tuna) without any problems. My mother says she also remembers me complaining of an itchy throat after eating fish sticks as a very young child. However, she dismissed it and thought it may have been my imagination.

I went to an allergist who basically told me to avoid fish. He told me that I could have a really bad anaphylactic reaction and my throat could close up and I could stop breathing. I continued to eat tuna since it caused no problems and I quite enjoyed it. However, I felt that somehow, I was missing out on a bounty of tastes. At first I thought I would try other types of seafood such as prawns, molluscs, and calamari. My first attempt at prawns (not until I was 12 because I grew up in a kosher household) did not end well. I had a similar, yet much milder, reaction to the one from trout. This was actually in a seafood restaurant and I attributed it to being cooked with or near fish at the time. Further prawn and squid experiments went very well and I still eat them.

Interestingly, throughout my life, I accidentally ingested fish without having any reactions. I remember finishing a Caesar salad when someone told me the dressing had anchovies in it. And some Caesar salads had the actual fish in the salad. There were other times when I was handed some sort of fried hors d'oeuvres. I thought it was chicken so just popped it in my mouth. I ate one and thought "this tastes nothing like chicken." After biting into a second one, I realised it was fish and spat it out.

Finally, I decided it was time to check for sure. Three months ago, I booked an appointment with an allergist. They told me I couldn't get in for three months. I thought, this guy must be good if he's booked out for 3 months. I'll finally be able to know for sure if I'm allergic to fish or not. If I was allergic, which ones can I eat? I figured he'd be able to tell me exactly which species were the culprits.

The appointment was 8:30 this morning at. After filling out a bit of paperwork, he called me into my room (and correctly pronounced my last name which is a rarity). I told him all about my history and how I have mild asthma and eczema. He drew some lines in a grid-like fashion on my arm with a red dry-erase marker and opened up an impressive box of small vials. The box contained allergens of different varieties in liquid form. He placed a small drop of about a dozen different allergens on the grid on my arm. He then took a small razor and pressed it into the drop to scratch the skin. This didn't hurt at all, in fact, I could hardly feel it. We waited about 3-4 minutes while he described what allergies are and how the mast cells release the allergens into the body. He went through the stages of anaphylaxis from itching, rashes and welts all the way up to wheezing, dropping blood pressure and finally collapse and shock.

When the 4 minutes were up, we looked at my arm and I couldn't see much of anything. On closer inspection, I could see tiny red specks on some of the spots. He started marking them with the red pen. It turns out, I'm mildly allergic to soy beans, milk, peanuts and fish. Fish I understand, but I did not expect the soy beans, milk or peanuts. I eat soy sauce all the time. I also am a huge fan of milk and dairy products (I'm constantly being ridiculed by the different types of cheese I keep in the fridge). I also eat peanuts with no problems. He said that the gut has some pretty good methods to get rid of little nasties. He said, if I haven't had reactions to them in the past, then I can continue eating them.

As for the fish, he said, just experiment. He said start with canned fish and move my way up to cooked fish. Then, if I'm feeling good about it, I can eat raw fish in sushi and sushimi. So much for knowing exactly what species of fish I can eat. He did say that in terms of allergies, there are 3 types of fish: deep sea fish like tuna, shallow sea fish such as sardines, and shark which are a whole different kettle of fish (excuse the pun).

This appointment lasted less than 15 minutes. And I really didn't leave with much more knowledge than what I had going in there. Of course, I could have been experimenting for the past 21 years. And I would have saved myself $200. Yes, he actually charged me 200 bucks. I'll get most of that back from Medicare, but he gets $200 for drawing some lines on my arm. Doesn't seem fair. I should have been an allergist.

One of my first fish experiments is going to be fish and chips. I can't wait.

How to Destroy a Building With Only Three People

They're knocking down a building next door from my work.

From the moment I walk into work in the morning to the time I walk out in the afternoon, there is the constant sound of jack-hammering. This is not a sound that is conducive to concentration. I drown out the sound by listening to music stored on my computer. I've noticed a lot of headphones in the office lately.

So, I was intrigued by the demolition and decided to take a look for myself. I went out onto the fire escape (it's made of wood, go figure) in the back of the office and expected to see a whole team of people ripping up pieces of plumbing, walls, etc. Instead, there were three guys. Three. To tear down a whole building. One of them was in a bobcat/backhoe/jack-hammer thing on the roof. He was the guy doing most of the work despite sitting on his arse. He was breaking up the roof into tiny pieces.

Then, there was another guy who was holding a hose and shooting water onto the concrete that was being broken up. I can only assume this was to minimise dust and possibly sparks that were created when the jack-hammer hit the rebar.



Ok, so, he had a pretty easy job: just stand there and spray water. Nice.

Then, there was this guy:



Come on! This guy is sitting there, doing nothing. He was watching the other two guys for a while, and then decided that it wasn't as interesting as his own boots. I didn't stay long enough to see if he was going to do something else, perhaps he might look to the left. I know he probably got back into that little blue bobcat and picked up all the rubble and put it somewhere else. But even doing that, he would still be sitting down.

And here I thought demolition was hard work.

All Grown Up

I am now a grown up. Well, almost. Officially, I've been an adult since 1994. I'll be 31 in less than two weeks but that is not what qualifies me as becoming a grown up. In my opinion, one is a grown up when they start doing grown up things such as buying a house. That is exactly what Liz and I have done.

Due to the current housing crisis in South-East Queensland, we were unable to buy where we wanted to in Brisbane. Instead, we had to travel about 30km west to Ipswich. Liz grew up in Ipswich and for years we said we would never move there. But the prices in Brisbane have just soared so much that we couldn't afford anything decent. After long deliberations, we decided to bite the bullet and have a look. We actually found something wonderful on the first day of looking and we snatched it up.

We're currently in the process of organising the inspection, conveyancing, and finance but hope to get the keys sometime in November.

Other grown up things I do or have done:
1. Bought a car
2. Wake up early (sometimes before 6am)
3. Pay bills
4. Complain about music being too loud
5. Visited a chiropractor


Where the hell is Ipswich?

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