New Meme via JTS, Memories.

G'Day,
I have been invited by a blog friend to participate in another writing prompt. JTS is running, haha pun, a prompt called Memories. I will attempt to link in there so we can share each others stories. My apologies if the link doesn't work but I will try. You know all about my computer skills.
Memories. Well! I have 51 years worth of them, and since my scribblings in here are predominantly based on same, rather than my imagination , you could just scroll back to any of my old posts to find them. Welcome. But it sounds like fun so, here goes anotherie.
I thought I would go right back as far as I could go in my memory and tell you about my very first memory.
As we know our memories can be tainted by family stories and others remembrances but this one, well I was very young, but this is mine.
My dad was taking me for a walk and I was clinging onto his shoulder as he carried me on his hip along a darkish shaded pathway. The trees were really tall and meeting over our heads and the pathway was well worn and of damp feet beaten earth with leaves scattered across it. I was fascinated by the trees above and the sudden quick movements of monkeys scrambling in the foliage overhead. They were chattering and screeching but I was safe. That is my very earliest memory.
It is backed up by family story because when I was a baby we lived in Malaysia, my Dad was in the army and working there and we did live near a pathway through a jungled area where monkeys lived.
Hmm. My next earliest memory was of the back yard where my parents were building a house in Wagga. The same house where my children David, and Anne-Marie now live, so it is still a family home. My Mum's house.
The builders were digging trenches across the back yard to install pipes and I was exploring and fell into one of the trenches. The ground was damp and slippery and the sides of the trench were too steep for me to climb back out. I called and called for someone to help but there was nobody near enough to hear me so I cried myself to sleep. I can't remember how I got back out or who helped me but I remember being so scared nobody would ever find me. According to when the house was built I would have been around two years old at the time.
Another early memory was in the Wagga house also. My Dad had a cricketing friend who lived across the street from us and about 5 or 6 houses up the road. He would come and have a beer with Dad and sit on the lounge while my sister and I played with his daughters, I remember one of them names Rebecca, but the other girls name escapes me. Anyway his name was Harry Penrith. He was an aboriginal man who later became famous, or infamous, whichever your personal upbringing allows you to believe. I remember I liked him anyway.... and as my sister always was competetive for my parents attention I would climb up on Uncle Harry's lap for cuddles. Harry later became an aboriginal activist and went over to England to present a document to the Queen claiming England on behalf of the Australian aboriginals. I always thought that was cool considering our country's history. Ha ha ha, Go Uncle Harry. I have a book written on his life somewhere. It content does not always tally with family stories. The book is called Burnum Burnum which is his aboriginal name.
My mother tells me, (this is Australia in the early 1960's remember) that we were teased at school because we played with his children who were black. In those days it was frowned upon. My own father had aboriginal blood running through his veins and chose not to tell his girls about their heritage because of public opinion at the time, which I found really sad. I in fact, only found out about this side of my family by mistake from a cousin many many years later. I guess it was his way of protecting us from his own experience.
O.k. there is my first go at the new prompt, my first memories.
Now if linking in works.........?
Bye.
Love Linda.
P.S. the link will hopefully show up in my favorite reads list in the sidebar.

Sunday Scribblings "Invisible"

G'Day,
The Sunday Scribblings prompt for this week is "Invisible". And.....it is a milestone prompt for our site as our hostess Laini tells us that it is the 250Th prompt. Wow.
So let's see where this takes me. I have an idea , a feeling, what can I make from it?

When I was a child I wanted to be invisible. To be able to sneak into a room and listen or watch a strange adult happening or conversation. I remember being sooooo frustrated by the closed lounge room door and forbidden room beyond at my grand parents home at Christmas time. The terrible wait until my cousins arrived and we were allowed to see inside.
I wanted to be invisible so I could be there but not have to participate as well as snoop at what was going on.

Have you ever been invisible?
Become invisible against your will.
I hate it......
It is a far cry from the little girl who wanted to be invisible.
The invisibility of being on the side lines and cut out of a conversation
Left behind or not quick enough to keep up, or as if you are superfluous, unneeded, unwanted.
To wander off and nobody noticed you leave.
You can never be so alone as you are in a crowded room.
Why do people do that to each other.
Have you ever been made invisible because a newer brighter personality has entered the scene.
Now did it feel?
Was it you ?
Or have you taken pleasure in the ego building that it gave you to do that to some one else.
Human nature puzzles me.
Heaps.

The pic above is one taken a bit over a week ago in the low clouds on the side of Mt Kosciusko.
That's all.
Bye. Love Linda.

Sunday scribblings "A Walk in the Park"

G'Day,
Oh Wow, how well does this week's prompt fit in with what I wanted to write about.
Ha! Love it! What a walk in the park!
I have been for a walk in the park. On Saturday, Sunday and Monday last I was up in the mountains about 2 hours drive from here doing just that (hence the late response to this prompt). Let me take you with me with my words and pictures.
Kosciusko national park is Australia's biggest alpine area national park. This county's alpine area is pretty small compared to what other countries have and it has Australia's tallest mountain in it Mt Kosciusko. It was named by a bloke who first climbed to the top of it called Strezleki, after some freedom fighter from his country.
The park is magic, wonderful...... oh superlatives flow, what else can I say about how much I loved my short break up there. Summer in the mountains is full of color and life and the alpine meadows are alive with gorgeous wildflowers as is the forest below it. Plants and flowers, many of which grow no where else in the world, including just across the border in Victoria, they are so specialized to withstand their harsh environment. Pure magic for a wildflower freak like me.
OK the first picture above this text is of the Murray river at Tom Groggin camping area on the western side of the mountain between Thredbo and Khancoban. Places of legend in Aussie hearts and literature. the Murray river runs all the way from the snowy mountains across 3 states and drains into the sea in South Australia. Along the way just about all of the inland rivers run into and join it. Rivers right from the centre of Queensland, the Diamondtina, the Lachlan, all the rivers including my own lovely old Murrumbidge river that you may remember me talking about in here before. the Murray river in this pic is young ,cold and clear and fast flowing, as it travels along to the west it gets muddied and cuts through the earth into deep banks, it is the biggest river system in Australia.
These trees are snow gums. the have extraordinary colored bark that is absolutely gorgeous and their branches are short and twisted. This pic was taken on Sunday at Perisher valley in the park. That name, Perisher valley tells you a lot about what the weather up there is like in the winter.
And this! I am so proud! This is the summit marker at the top of Mount Kosciusko, Australia's tallest point at 2228m above sea level. To get up there you have to hop on the chair lift at Thredbo and go up the top. From there it is a 13.5km round walk to the top. It is listed as a moderate bush walk. Pete and I did the walk at our own pace it took us somewhere between 4 and 5 hours. Or rather I should fess up and admit we did the walk at my pace as he is fitter than me and had to keep waiting. Though most of the waiting was because I couldn't resist stopping every few meters along the way to check out the wildflowers and take pictures of them. Hehehe. I did it, I have wanted to do that walk for so long! Woo Hoo!
This pic is of a meadow full of silver snow daisies. Aren't they wonderful. The lady I spoke to at the rangers station said that this season is the best for these particular flowers that they have seen for 10+ years. Zillions of them.
Pete and I at the summit of Mt Kosciusko. We ate our sandwiches here and I listened to Led Zeppelin and Nat King Cole on our ipods. I wondered if it was the first time they had been enjoyed at the top of Australia. the Led Zep songs were strangely appropriate to the scenery.
Looking out west from near the summit.
Giant granite rocks scattered every where up there. Habitat for the rare and endangered Pygmy Possum who lives in amongst these rocks and shelters from the snow, hibernating in burrows inside them. These rocks are also shelter in the summer for the bogong moths which are the possums food source. Aboriginals also traveled to this area in summer to hold ceremonies and feast on the moths which were roasted on coals and eaten, they are very high in fat and are supposed to taste nutty, I think I will take their word for it. I loved the way these were stacked, as if piled haphazard by a giant.
this sign was near the toilets about 2/3rds of the way along the walk to the summit. And..... hehehe, the site of Australia's highest public toilet.
Snuggled amongst the rocks and boggy wet ground was life everywhere. Including this pretty fern.
This is a flower known as Billy Button. each flower head is made up of tiny tiny yellow flowers.
Mountain meadows on the way to the summit, full of flowers of all kinds, hmmm did I tell you that before?
Little rivulets ran everywhere across the landscape. One of these was marked as The head waters to the Snowy River. And yes, there were still a few patches of snow in January up there.
This pretty thing is called a Hoary Sun-ray. It has soft woolly leaves and papery petals and is an everlasting. I was so tempted to pick myself a bunch to keep but it is very illegal in the park to do that, if I was a kid I absolutely couldn't have resisted it.
This is a Candle Heath. It was very common up there, heaps of it.
This is called mountain celery. It was practically wiped out by cattle grazing up there but since the cattle have been banned from the park it has returned.
This is a closer view of the silver snow daisy.
Sign at the top of the chair lift. They even advertise up there. Hmph Toyota. Toyota didn't save my poor old fat legs. About 2/3rds of the way back down I was really feeling the walk in my knees, ouchy.
On Monday after our big walk we were sunburned and wind burned and our legs were not the best so we decided to spend our time exploring the area in the car.We drove from Jindabyne where we were staying and had a look at Perisher Valley then visited a Trout farm. Then we went past the ski village of Thredbo west to the other side of the mountains and down the hills to Khancoban, had an ice cream and turned around and came back to Jindabyne. Oh wow , oh wow again. It is so beautiful up there. The forest and landscape is quite different on the western side and it was warmer and protected compared to Thredbo where we were in the clouds and rain. Yep more superlatives. The road was tarred but narrow and very steep and windy. A fun place to throw your car around if you be so inclined. Would have bneen great fun in a rally car if you knew you were going to not meet another car coming from the other direction. It said in the sign that it was 77km to Khancoban and was a 2 hr drive, so that tells you what sort of road it was. It was great though. No picture could capture the beauty of the tall alpine beech trees that met above the road and enclosed it into a tunnel of big majestic trees. Or of warning signs that told to beware of wild brumbys, of which we saw evidence. Or of the blue and red crimson rosellas that abounded and the rare Gang Gang cockatoos and tiny wrens. Parts of the road were deeply cut into the rocks and I was thinking about the work and planning that went into the building of it.
Anyway, that is a small sample of the flowers that I found at the top of Australia at their summer glory.
Gotta work tomorrow, better get to bed.

Good night.

Love Linda.

Sunday Scribblings "Progress"

G'Day,
The Sunday Scribblings prompt this week is Progress.
Progress Hmmmm. Yesterday I went for a walk. Up a big hill puff, pant, hard work. It was a big hill.

She put me on. The business side of her, and softened my insides with short blue socks and we went. In the car at first, with me cradling her as she pressed the pedals in and out and moved the little car a few miles down the road and across the pathway to the shade of a gum. Then we left the car behind.
Mount Taylor is one of the nice size hills that are markers in this city, part of land designated to stay undeveloped. There was no height stated on the board but maybe it is a similar height to some of the surrounding hills in the vicinity which are in the upper portion of 800 meters above sea level. Not big by the standards of other places around the world but that is what we have here. A nice challenge to conquer. The lower reaches of the big hill where we were, is covered by the suburb of Torrens and as we walked up the lower reaches of the track we found it interesting to sticky beak into back yards and gardens that were proudly nurtured by their owners.
The day before was a down day and I didn't get to move off the shelf near the front door. I waited because I know she always comes back for me, sooner or later. I cradle her, I hold her firm and protect her from the cold and the heat and pain and I can feel her moods when we are together. As we have been for many years. She put me away once, for a long time, and used a newer friend but that friend wasn't as strong as me and soon wore out, then she came back to me. I was waiting, now I am in pride of place as a useful friend where I should be.
I carried her up that big hill and we saw wonders together. Wonders and wildlife that we don't get to see in the lower reaches of my world. We saw many pods of Roos and wildflowers. Oh..........wildflowers that I love as much as she does. The top third of the big hill was covered in them. I brushed through them and reveled in their softness and subtle perfumes and colors. There were minuscule pink and mauve flowers and tiny yellow ones everywhere. Tiny tiny yellow ones on fine spindly stems just a centimeter across with pale yellow petals around the outside and even tinier petals in a circle inside those around the black center. We haven't seen those kind before. Scattered amongst the undergrowth and high up on the rocky hillside were lots of bright purple fringe lilies and a stand of pale shrubby wattle in flower. And other spindly bushes that had clusters of tiny tiny white flowers at the end of their branches. As we climbed higher we were happy to find that the same bushes with the tiny white flowers hadn't began to flower yet on the shaded side of the hill. Analogous of so many other things. We didn't know their names but it was lovely that the landcare people had been able to keep most of the introduced weeds away from here and the bush was mostly in its natural state. Well except for those pesky yellow dandelions that I am sure could gain a foothold happily anywhere, even in the middle of the driest desert rock. I loved the way the rocks were stacked in the steep parts of the hill, no stone mason could have arranged them as perfectly. Though it was much nicer to have the man made pathways to travel over.
It was a pleasant late morn we walked through. Not too hot and the sky was soft and gray with gentle clouds that stopped her getting burned by the sun. The path was steep though and we were soon wet with perspiration, it was quite hard work in the steep parts. Half way up the hill I thought she would give up, she was so winded and melting from the effort. We rested for a while and went a bit further,then just a bit further, and the trig marker was visible at the summit. Well we had come this far and were encouraged by the sight of the marker and her sense of adventure kicked in for the last little climb. She had to see the top and the view from there and it was raining so it became a little cooler and she washed her face in the raindrops. The view was so so worth the hard climb. Though I know that it wasn't so hard for the fitter and younger walkers we saw along the way.
The little dog that came with us for the walk enjoyed his adventure. There were wonderful scents for him to investigate along the way and other people and their doggie companions to be met. Then there was the excitement of seeing those kangaroos, which looked so much fun to chase, if only he wasn't held back on the leash. The big Roos wouldn't have thought much of it if he had been able to chase them and I am sure he would have been a very unhappy little doggie if he had been able to do so as the big roos would have soon put him in his place.
Anyway..... Now I am back in pride of place on the shelf by the doorway, ready to be called upon to cradle her as needed on our next outing.
That's all Folks.
Enjoy your new year and rise to the challenges it is sure to present to you and you will come out on top.
Love Linda and her old blue runners.

Sunday Scribblings "Manifesto"

G'Day,
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Best wishes to all. That is my manifesto to you. Grin. Hug. Smooch on the cheek.
Sunday Scribblings prompt this week sure is a biggie isn't it. I googled the word and came up with a list as long as ............. well bloody long anyway.
Then I took a few side trips around the web and found this...

http://www.wellbeingmanifesto.net/

It looked like a government propaganda site at first, but really, I did think it was pretty good and covered lots of stuff that we need to strive for to achieve our own personal well being. I don't usually like to copy others stuff and always think it is best to do my own writing but I do want to share this one.
In my life I have experienced people with depression. I do know how it feels to not have a healthy sense of well being. Anyway I hope some of you that find my Sunday Scribblings prompt this week might go along and have a look at the well being manifesto. Have a read and comment back to me on what you find there.
Sometimes you are the one who gets kicked, sometimes you are the one holding the bandages. That is what women do for the ones they love.
Bye.
Love Linda.

Sunday Scribblings "December"

G'day,
Here is my entry into this weeks "Sunday Scribblings"prompt. The word we will be writing about this week is "December". If you would like to have a look see at what other participants have written go to my side bar and click on the link.
Anyway, here goes..........
December brings expectations that I sometimes like, and sometimes not. I remember the saddest thing I ever saw at Christmas. I was parked in the main street.It was in the days when the phone box was placed on the footpath outside the post office. A drunk man was in the phone box sobbing and begging his wife (i suppose) could he come and see his children. She was very obviously opposed to the idea. So sad.
Our December expectations. Tradition, family, nostalgia for Christmas past, present and future. The way the media and movies and of course the way we envision it should all be. The reality is sometimes different isn't it.
Yesterday I went back to Wagga to visit my two youngest children as I won't be able to see them ion Christmas day, for the first time since they were born. That's OK, I guess I can be proud that doing my job as a Mummy has lead them to independence and their own lives and contacts. Though I am a bit disappointed. I know there will be many other Christmases to follow when we will be together.
I thought I would write about that.
My son Mike, my hubby Pete and I drove to Wagga on Saturday. It is a three hour drive from here and quite pretty no matter what time of year the route is traveled, but especially so just now as we have had lots of rain, courtesy of La Nina. It is usual for the countryside to be browning off at this time of year and harvest to be finished. Nope, not this year. due to all the rain and recent flooding in the area all the crops were still in the paddocks, unstripped and spoiled, not worth the hours usually spent to work the fields. After many years of drought the farmers were watching their crops grow beautifully then be spoilt by drought breaking rains. Around Jugiong and Gundagi, in fact all the way to Wagga, you could see the many places where the water levels had been high and debris was left hanging in the fences.
We took the back road across to Junee from Gundagi, just to sticky beak. My eyes and my mind were full of well loved memories along that road. The road runs beside the Murrumbidgee river until near Nangus, a few weeks ago I could have just about walked across it without wetting my belly button. Now I was looking at long grasses swept flat in the direction of the waters flow. Two years ago there wasn't even much grass left at all. At Nangus I passed the little garage/ store/ grog shop, where I ran out of petrol late one night. I knocked on the door and found a lady, Lorna, I knew from years ago whom I used to work with. Her hubby had to go around to the bus depot at a local farm and raid me some petrol from there to get me home to Junee. Strange coincidence.
Then towards Junee and past a property called Pine Point. A friend from the Wagga potter's club lived there for years. She moved to Canberra too, but died of cancer last year, Poor Rita, I treasure the pots that I have which she made. A few minutes further down the road you come to Eurongilly. Barely a village with a hall, a tennis court a couple of houses and not much else. Eurongilly has its own memories. I thought of the people I knew who came from this area, and the driving lessons I took my children on along the back farm roads there. Then a left hand turn towards Junee.
That corner there is Heffernan's farm, I remember I took my Mum and Dad mushrooming in that paddock and my poor old dad had trouble getting back over the fence.
There on the right is Brabin's road. She taught my children at the local high school, and her daughter Sarah was in my daughter's class at school all the way through. I wonder what Sarah is doing now.
If you go down that road to the end and turn left again you come out near the farm where my son had his first job.
Just down here and on the right again is the road to a friends farm. Brian is a bush woodworker and I went to a workshop one day out there. I really enjoyed that and came away with a hobby horse that I made which served me as a coffee table beside the swing in my back yard for many years. He was such a nice man, he used to come up to the hospital where I worked and he played his ukulele and sang to the oldies each week. He came to my farewell and sang to me. I hung my head to hold myself together then.
The trees all around here still bear the scars of the big fires which swept through the area a few years ago and caused havoc, they burned for miles and miles. They were started by someone throwing a cigarette butt out the window of their car along the Olympic way, on new years day. It was one of those impossibly hot, tinder dry summer's days that you get in inland Australia with a vicious drying wind to sweep the flames along. I will never forget that day.
The hill above our old house was called Rocky hill, not much to imaging what it looks like. As you round it into the town of Junee, there is a house on a few acres,we should have bought that house. Our old house is just below the lookout there. The trees have grown, the chook yards are still standing, but otherwise I though the yard was looking in need of some t.l.c. I know the lady who bought it, she is not a gardener. Oh, so many memories here. The house where my children grew up and where we lived for 14 years.
Down Hill street and half way up the other side of the hill we stopped at Ali's house. I know all her family, little towns are great like that. She had been ill and as she was sleeping I left her there, I will catch up with her again later. Down the hill, to the right is the main street, across the intersection is the swimming pool ans skate park and the old pub where they have the poker run. So many more stories, so many.
Then left at the end of the street and on to the Bomen road which leads you into Wagga, the black wattle trees along the sides of the road are lush and green but finished flowering months ago.
I was born in Wagga. Spent quite a bit of my life there, on and off over the years. I still consider it my home town. The water is still high in the river from the floods last week and you can see where the high water levels came up to. North Wagga was evacuated during the floods but it is open again now, the water didn't enter many of the houses. My friend Fran's house is just down there in that street on the right, she was evacuated. I hope her house and pottery studio isn't damaged.
The old Hampton bridge is sure dilapidated now, enclosed with wire to keep people off the unsafe decking and railings, she stood strong during this flood though. Good bones underneath the crumbling wood. Down river to the right of the bridge is my beloved Wirradjiri reserve, I have written about it in my blog before.
The lower part of the main street was underwater, not so much from the river but from the torrential rain that fell.
We went straight past the main street and turned left into Trail street. That house on the corner is a beautiful old federation style home. Over the years I have seen it go from almost destroyed , returned to its former glory again, but now it is a shame to see the lovely woodwork details dried out and peeling again.
On past the Wollundry lagoon the water level has dropped back almost to it's former levels and you would not believe that just a week ago it was flooding. The park is green and beautiful and the lagoon is adorned with water lilies in flower, pink, yellow and white floating peacefully on its surface.
Just across the road there is an old cannon, I climbed on that when I was a kid. Down that street there,The Esplanade, is a semi detached house my sister rented for a while. Traveling down into Best street on the left is that nice house I went to for a meeting about starting up an r.s.p.c.a. branch in Wagga when I was about 17 years old.
On the other side of the road is Mrs Graham's old house where I went each day to clean and look after her. Dear Mrs Graham, she had alzhiemers and would send me to the shop down the road each day I went there, to get 1/2 a billy can of milk. She did accept when I came back that it came in cartons nowadays though.
A few blocks further on down Best street and there is the house where my daughter lived when she first moved out of home, oh, it looks good now and has been all renovated. Over the road on the corner is Mr Grentall's house and across the other side of the traffic lights is Vic and Dragitsa's house.
Then up over that railway bridge into Edmondson street, past Mount Erin school where my niece went and then on the left Wagga high school. Into Mitchelmore street.
Oh there is Betty's house, another pottery friend. She is gone now too. Such a feisty old chook, but I loved her.
It is all the one street, from Trail street right through to Northcott parade, almost one side of Wagga to the other.
That house over there is where I got the flowers for my wedding bouquet.
Next block down is Saint John's, where I used to go to church in my teens. I knew that place well and down into Fernleigh road is Turvey Tops, the local shopping center.
But back in Mitchelmore street a few blocks down is Beltana Ave. Where I lived as a 2 year old, a 7 year old and again as a 15 year old, then until my wedding.My very earliest memories lie here. Still my Mum's house, old now but still a family home. My daughter and son live there now.
An exchange of Christmas presents and a romp with Ruby my son's beloved Staffie dog, then off the the RSL club bistro for a quasi Christmas lunch.
We left Wagga around 4.00 as planned and got back to Canberra about 7.00.
So that was my December trip with reminiscences. The closest to a Christmas trip I will be doing this December.
Enough?
Ok. Bye.
Merry Christmas All.
Enjoy your Christmas break,
no matter what your personal beliefs.
Love Linda.

Sunday Scribblings "Antidote"

G'Day,
I have been reading around some of the other participants work this week. Oh aren't we such a gang of romantics, finding love the antidote to woes, or even just a friendly caring face.
I thought I might try a different tack. I don't like to follow the crowd, never did.
Anyway I thought I would write about my beloved Uncle Wally. Every child should have an Uncle Wally in their lives. He is such a sweetie and quite an eccentric in his own right, he does not follow the crowd. I love that about people.
Anyway, my Uncle Wally. He found fun and excitement in things before they became trendy or fashionable. Things like collecting and restoring vintage cars and bikes. He was dubbed the oldest bikie in Griffith by a biker's club. I reckon he had one of the first movie camera around when I was a baby and took movies of interesting stuff long before others could afford them and long before the little hand held camcorders of today were available. He even went skiing up in the snow country when he was in his teens on two homemade skis he made from planks of wood. He is also an example of keeping healthy through exercise and eating home grown organic vegetables and fruits. He walks 4 km each day rain hail or shine. What a great character. He is 82 now I think. He built his own house and can and has done just about anything. And... he is dyslexic, so he never learned to write or read.
Anyway where I was going with this story....
Uncle Wal has been bitten by brown snakes probably 4 times in his life. A few years ago he was bitten again, on the finger. He felt something sting him on the finger when he was moving some timber he had stacked down the back behind the shed. He wasn't sure what it was. After a while he stared feeling not so good and thought maybe it was a snake again so he went up to the hospital which is only a few minutes drive away from his home. He made it to the car park and couldn't make it any further, then he managed to call a passer by who came over to help him and they bought the nursing staff out to help him. He nearly died that time. He had to stay in hospital for a week. Not good, I wasn't there but I can just imagine him champing at the bit to get back outside again and not want to stay in bed. Hahaha. The doctors said next time he is bitten will probably be the last.
Just a note about these snakes. the eastern brown snake is the second most deadly snake in the world and the first one is the inland taipan. Both infamous Aussies. The eastern brown snake is a quite common and wide spread critter and although it is shy and will get out of your way if it possibly can but it will attack if cornered or breeding. They are born with a full dose of venom and can use it from birth, which has been known to trick people who pick up "that cute little baby snake"The antidote can be found in all hospitals, large and small around the state, if you are lucky, hahaha.
I have had lots of encounters with them, but that is another story.
Bye.
Love Linda.