On Monday we had two workers finishing the installation of some carabao grass near the back of our property. I was upstairs looking out the window from what used to be called the “Master Bathroom.” Today that term is apparently politically incorrect so I just call it “Our Master Bathroom.”

I am watching the workers, one of whom is holding a rake. He swings the rake, while in one smooth motion he jumps backwards. I think I know what this means and it can’t be good. He hacks a few times at what is obviously a snake and then stops. Janet joins them a couple minutes later. I’m still in “Our Master Bathroom” and have no intention of leaving. She confirms the thing is dead and then the worker picks it up with the rake/weapon and they take it and bury it.

She comes upstairs to tell me what happened, which of course I know. “It was gigantic,” she says. From my view, safe in “Our Master Bathroom,” I estimate it was 3 feet long and 3/4″ in diameter. “What kind was it?” I ask. “It wasn’t a cobra,” is all she knew. The story the workers told her was that they saw it on a low branch of our giant mango tree, located in the back corner of the lot; unfortunately just next to my shop. They took a rock and knocked it off the branch. From that point I know what happened.

And then Janet laid on me the best news. “They said it was a male. That probably means there is a female somewhere around.” Great. So glad that snakes are monogamous. Why can’t they be like most everyone else here?

Here’s the thing. In the Philippines I can deal with the giant spiders that are (to steal a Woody line) the size of Buicks. I can deal with the other insects and the dozens of lizards around our house at night. I can deal with the roosters (sort of like them), the pigs, the carabaos and cows that graze next door. I can deal with the motorcycles and bad driving. Most of the time I can even deal with the other expats. But snakes – well I ain’t thrilled.

Since this incident, whenever I go to the back of our lot or to the shop, I have one eye on the mango tree and the other eye down on the grass. When I open up the shop I take a quick peek around – just in case. Yeah, yeah, I know; Covid-19’s what I have to worry about. You can all worry about that in your home countries. I’ll worry about a pissed off 3 foot long female snake looking for her husband.

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A few days after the snake murder we were getting ready for bed. Janet was brushing her teeth in “Our Master Bathroom.” I was getting ready to hop into bed. Suddenly the house shook. It was a pretty good shake. A few seconds later there was another and a few seconds later another still. We went downstairs, left the house and sat on our porch; probably in a fetal position. But after a few minutes we decided the house wasn’t gonna fall down on us and went to bed.

The next morning I woke up and checked on the strength of the quakes. They were listed as 3.5 and 3.3. But here’s where it gets a little scary. The epicentre was listed as Valencia. Yes, that Valencia, the town where we live. When I lived in Oregon there were many tremors and a few quakes. We even had a 5.something about 25 years ago that did some damage. But the epicenters were always far away and deep underground. The epicenter to this series of tremors was right in the neighborhood.

The following day they revised the numbers. Turns out the quakes were 4.4 and 3.9. So happy they got it right.

So while all of you worry about illness and elections and little things like rioting – I have snakes and quakes to keep me up at night!