Sunday, January 4, 2009

Man the Bearicade Redux

I have made up my mind that I will NOT take any more snow photos. None. I am soooooooo over snow. Really.

From now on, no matter what the weather I will only post summer photos; photos of things like blue skies, sunshine, green grass, blooming flowers. Yes, it is sticking my head in the sand, metaphorically speaking. Sooooo? My blog, I can do what I want with it. Harrumph.

Yes, I really, really, really am tired of winter and snow. And winter is only, what, 2 weeks old? I long for spring, and it's three months off. Time was, spring arrived here in February. I remember getting sunburned planting a peony - which failed to thrive - on a hot February day. Siiiiggghh.

Whine. Snivel.

Maybe it affects me badly because I can't get out of the house. Tough to walk in this knee deep snow when you have only one working leg. And when you don't own a pair of winter boots, or boots of any kind for that matter. Running shoes just don't cut in in this snow and ice. Weather report last night at 11pm said +6 and raining all day today. Woke up this morning to -1 and snowflakes as big as a toonie. Weather people lied. It snowed all day, heavily.

It's raining now, and they are calling for +6 tomorrow and rain. Riiiiggghht.

The other day Richard made a startling discovery when he came back from feeding the cows over at Ron's. He discovered that bears aren't hibernating yet, despite the snow and cold temperatures. How did he discover that, you ask? Remember back in the fall when we had a visit, one of many, from our resident Island Black Bear? Well, a few days ago, I mentioned to Richard that Bente's husband, Max, had seen a Black Bear down by his fish store, Codfather Seafood. And I commented that because the bears weren't hibernating yet, we would have to be careful as the bear would be after the garbage shed again.

"Yup," he said, "we will."

Friday in the early hours, the bear struck, and I do mean struck. I was in my room, watching the morning news and weather when Richard came through the door, mad as a hornet. "The bear was at the garbage last night!" he hollers. "He nearly knocked the shed right over, pulled the locked door open and dragged bags of garbage (- garbage that Richard hadn't been able to haul out to the dump because of the over 3 feet of snow in the yard -) alllllll over everywhere." This was punctuated by words that would curl the hair of a bald man "!@#$%^&*" he snarled.

Discretion is the better part of valor, or so the old saying goes. I stayed where I was, keeping a low profile, and never mentioned my words of three days ago. Cowardly? Oh yup, for sure. I know when to bite my tongue. Plenty of time for an "I told you so" in the months to come.

He goes back out doors and recovers and re-bags as much of the garbage as he can, puts it back into the shed, and closes the door. Then I see him walk down the driveway. Hmmmmm. Soon I hear the sound of the Cat starting up, and see it chugging back up the drive towards the shed. "Now, what is he going to do....?" I think to myself. "Is he going to use it to scoop up garbage?"

Then it hits me. Nope, he is going to put the bucket against the door of the shed to hold it closed so the bear can't get back in there again. And he does. I see him coming back towards the house when he is done, still cussing a blue streak. "I picked up as much of the garbage as I could get to," he states, "and I have moved the Cat so the bucket rests against the door of the shed, holding it tight shut. I'd like to see that S.O.B. get in there now," he says. "I'm going to get ready for work now." I have to admit, it's a clever idea, a clever way to hold the door shut and keep the bear out.

And I flash on..., waking up in the night to the sound of the Cat starting up and an Island Black Bear going for a joy ride across the fields with the big yellow John Deer Crawler Tractor, churning up snow as he goes.

I give a huge shudder. NOT a pretty thought.

Still...the least he could do is plow the driveway out on his joy ride. You know, as payment for spreading garbage everywhere.

I mean, really.

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