Warning!

Don't turn on the Discovery Channel

Trust me there are things out there that no one should discover!

The other night, I made the mistake of flicking on the Discovery channel to watch a program - discover something new about the world.

When I first sat down on the couch with my little bowl of soup, I was a pretty content person. I was pretty comfortable with my space in life and the world around me. But during that program, everything changed.

Some of you might not know this about me, but when I was in my early years - somewhere between 10 and 13 - I was sent out to the garden to gather potatoes for supper. I didn't mind, in fact I quite liked the garden - the pea section in particular was my favourite spot because one could just sit down and feast there - then blame "those damn geese!" when there were no peas in the garden.

So I go out to dig some potatoes. No big deal. I'd done it many times before. Stick in the pitchfork, pull out potatoes. Easy.

Until.

Until I stuck the pitchfork in for the last time that day, stepped on it to get it as deep into the earth as I could muster and then pulled it up - upturning moist dark dirt and revealing...NOT big round potatoes, but a sticky squirming SALAMANDER on the end of my fork!!!

OMG.

There he was, desperately flinging his little appendages this way and that! Trying to run...twist...anything away from the giant metal spear through his belly.

Yup, I had stuck the thing right through the middle.

Now here is where I'd like to tell you I pulled him gently off his skewer, patted his head, gave him a little band-aid, named him Sally Mander and nursed him back to health...

I'd LIKE to tell you that, but I can't...instead...

I called out a lot of names (none of them Sally or Mander) and I threw that pitchfork as far as I could launch it! I ran out of that garden as fast as my feet could carry me!! I sped across the lawn - my feet barely making contact with the ground - no telling where those little monsters might be hiding! FINALLY I reached the safety of the steps...the door...the kitchen...the kitchen window...

I frantically searched through the window to see if his angry family and salamander friends had chased me with their mouths frothing and tails in the air. I looked at the front door - no salamanders! I let out a breath in relief. LUCKY! I had just rubbed elbows with the Grim Reaper and WON!

Mom said, 'Where are the potatoes?"

WHAT? WHO CARES 'Where are the potatoes?'! I almost died out there!



There in the garden sat my nearly-full-of-potatoes-for-supper bucket. Surely surrounded by an evil army of salamanders.


Let them rot out there. There was NO WAY I was ever stepping back into that dark, infested soil and risking my life again. I'd eat rice. Rice purchased from the well-lit-salamander-free grocery store ailes.




So, you can understand I've had a very reasonable fear of salamanders ever since. I actually quite like reptiles - rough dry things like iguanas or tortoises, crocodiles, turtles or lizards are fine by me - but put so much as a moist, smooth salamander picture anywhere in my vincinity and you won't see me back in that vicinity, ever.


So here I am on my couch the other night, thinking I'd learn a little something I can pull out at a party to impress people, like my 'why starfish can't flip themselves over' bit, and what happens???

I 'Discover' I'm living in a world home to giant 5 foot long Japanese salamanders!!!

5 FEET?????!!!!!!

I AM FIVE FEET.

Imagine five feet of slimy salamander on your pitchfork!

FIVE FEET!

OF SALAMANDER.

I am no longer safe in this world.