The Snakes (or: When We Realized This Was Going to Be a Project)

As part of our 10-year anniversary of owning Lookout Lavender Farm, it feels only right to dedicate an entire chapter to one of the earliest—and most memorable—chapters of farm life:

The snakes.

When we bought the property, the farmhouse had been abandoned for several years. And as anyone who’s ever owned land knows, when people move out, nature moves in. Enthusiastically. With confidence. And apparently without asking permission.

We assume the rats were the first to take up residence—and given the ample food supply (rats), the snakes followed right behind.

They mostly lived upstairs, where we’d occasionally find them lounging as if they’d paid rent. They even left us little gifts in the form of shed skins (see photo), which somehow felt both thoughtful and deeply unsettling. But the moment that truly sent us over the edge was the day one of them casually poked his head out from under the eaves to greet us. You’ll see that photo, too—he honestly looks like he’s smiling, welcoming us to his farmhouse.

Then came the day the contractors—God bless them—tore out the living room ceiling. This apparently resulted in a shower of rat nests and all the lovely things that come with them. It was… memorable. For everyone involved.

So how do you sleep in a house with rats and snakes?

You don’t. At least, I don’t.

I have certain limitations, and cohabitating with rodents and reptiles is one of them. For the first year and a half, we stayed in local hotels, with neighbors, and even camped in the field. Anything felt preferable to sleeping in a house where snakes clearly believed they were the original owners.

How were these residents eventually sent packing for good?

That story—along with the many escapades involved in turning our nightmare into a dream—deserves its own chapter.

Stay tuned for the next installment.