My dad was a production manager at a textile mill where I grew up in NC. A lot of the first shift guys would farm from 3 to dark. My dad was kind of a management legend (he gave what became a locally "historic speech" off the cuff when the plant integrated.) He was no liberal, but he knew what was right and wrong and he knew how to manage people. Anyway, many nights we had to go pick him up he had so much stuff that the part time farmers gave him. We lived in mill village where he could normally walk home. One evening I was walking to my room, that was kind of back by the kitchen, and for some reason turned on the light. A 3 or so foot, but very thick Mr Copper Dopper was coiled, in what would have directly been in my path. My dad called for the shotgun, but cooler heads prevailed, mine, and we hoed it. Next day the guy who had given my dad the veggies raced to meet my dad, saying they had killed four small copperheads where he had stacked his veggies and to check the bag for little copperheads. Daddy told him we had found momma, the guy thought he would be fired. Needless to say, we ate well after that and no more snakes. The first time i "bought" a tomato was cognitive dissonance..it just did not compute! Check your sacks, carefully!