Ode to the Rattlesnake

This weekend I explored Old Town in Albuquerque. Lots of shops selling turquoise and silver around a town green. No, no dreamcatchers. Must have been sold out. On the town green was a gazebo where performers dressed up in Mexican attire and danced, sang, or played instruments. I ate lunch in a small Mexican restaurant behind an old church. Very charming and fun. Among all these attractions, however, I found one hot spot that was somehow not sold out: the Rattlesnake Museum.


I had been planning on tricking my father into a visit to the museum ever since I found out about its existence, but I just couldn’t wait that long. My father is not what you would call a friend of reptiles. One very vivid childhood memory consists of an unnamed oldest sister putting a garter snake in a shoebox and giving it to my dad. Let’s just say some snakes can fly:) I learned more about rattlesnakes than anyone would ever want to know. Except for my sister Mary. For some crazy reason the girl used to work in a REPTILE SHOW. And she even knew the reptiles' names. There are red rattlesnakes. There are black ones. There are rattlesnakes with horns over their eyes. Yes, they all have rattles. Yes, they only had live snakes at this museum. And yes, just as I thought I was doing very well being calm while surrounded by snakes, I almost had a heart attack when my phone vibrated in my purse and I thought it was a rattlesnake. So, Father dearest, I would brave this museum for you any time. But of course I took some pictures. You are more than welcome!