I have a wine cellar here in the yard, surrounded by large natural stone walls. For fun, I've been collecting wines there from the supermarket for the past six months. You know, they're cheap here.
A few bottles at a time have passed from the Market to my cellar to mature and the so-called during the wine market in the fall, even a couple of six-bottle Cote de Rhone keiss were acquired. I love the local hot winter wine, Vin Chaud, which wine is used in the bottle trade during the Christmas season, and whose recipe I have shared every year with La Petite Provence's Christmas customers. Maybe you've had one too.
Well, despite a few bottles of wine, I mainly store my home stock in my basement, due to the pitifully limited storage space in my kitchen. Often during the day, I go out to get something from my little cellar, achingly on this terraced hillside plot up a few mossy stone steps, below the olive tree and past my microscopic herb "garden". I enjoyed every step. Even today. The boy wanted to cook the noodles himself. Then together we crammed into the small basement to look for those instant noodle bags on the dusty shelves.
Then, in that small enclosed space of a couple of square meters, my gaze fell on something dark, like a piece of rope, inside the threshold. I was left thinking about it a bit, as I didn't remember seeing something like this on the floor before. I wondered if it was even an old electrical cable when I noticed a pattern on the "cable". Dark spots and hii-that, I was suddenly like in some nightmare I saw. I calmly guided the boy out of the basement, over the "rope" and soon returned with an iron shovel in my hand, ready to beat the abomination to death. Still a little hopeful, if only it were some kind of cable problem.
Yep, it was still there, just like before. I raised the shovel and let it burn. I hit it past and the cable-snake slipped straight away between the thermal insulation and into the wall structures! It was a mistake on my part.
That's where it really went - and I was completely helpless.
Googling: Serpents Alpes Maritimes, and from there I was already able to see that this is a small brown species of serpent completely unknown to me before! Bites and is poisonous. Nice. Fortunately, it is small and not terribly toxic to humans, but a viper anyway.
All you have to do is call the safe father figure of all the residents of the small French village, the mayor's office. Oh, that there is such a sweet, all-encompassing and all-knowing security agency for such a woman who lives alone and often needs advice!
I got motherly advice from the secretary to open the basement door in the hope that the little skink would decide to go out the door and leave my little basement. If you didn't leave, I could call the local firefighters to evict or pick up the yeast. Ah, so help was available.
I opened the door, the snake did not appear again for a day.
The next morning, the crafty one was again dozing off on the cellar doorstep. Poof. I then installed sound frequency repellents of all kinds and left the door wide open to the cool air day and night. I haven't seen the guy since then, but would he have been better there between the thermal insulation in the cool weather... who knows. If once had chosen my basement as a winter apartment. You know, even if it had already fallen there for several winters - without my knowledge.
As long as they don't attack us. I can't even call the brave firefighters (who here in France are unbelievably good-looking, by the way!) to the spot when there's not even a worm anywhere to be seen.
Fingers crossed and life goes on.
In Finland, I have nested several vipers. Even this one would have survived if I had only hit him with the first spade blow. Wild woman was about to be unleashed. Now I feel a little sorry for that little worm. I guess it was a good thing I didn't kill that fat guy.
There is probably a snake somewhere in every paradise. So here too <3
Warmly, Katariina