I Was Workin' in the Lab...

Sunny again this morning, what a gorgeous day! When I finally stumble outside - no, I didn't take my camera with me. Yes, sigh, I FORGOT - the boat has been taken care of by Richard, the windfall apples have been picked up, and there is no Cute Little Island Black Bear in sight. Cappuccino time.

Yesterday I was accosted by spiders outdoors several times. Mostly I just brushed them off, without thought, being busy doing "things" at the time. Last night before bed I was reading info on tomatoes in a gardening book I borrowed from the library. I turned the page and something tiny scurried across it towards me. I blinked, focusing on it. It was a nearly microscopic spider. What the heck? Then Kelly's words came back to me: "I can see one of the dead spider kids coming after you, ala the Mandy Patinkin character in Princess Bride, saying: my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die!" Aaahhg! I brushed it away and closed the book.

This morning as I am walking from the living room to the kitchen, my spidar jangles. Looking above the room door, I see it. Another spider, this one the size of a loony, is staring back at me, snarling. I reach for the broom, never taking my eyes off it. Its beady little eyes follow my movements. Slowly I raise the broom towards it. 5 little white Bichons follow the path of the broom, tails wagging slowly. I am sure I heard one of them bark "get it mom".

Suddenly I jab at it, hard and the spider falls to the floor, where it shakes itself and prepares to launch a counter attack at me. But I am faster. Whap, whack, smash. The dogs go wild, barking and snarling at the broom. I, of course, emerge victorious. Just in case, I give it a stomp with my foot, then have to hobble to the deck to scrape it off my shoe. "Oh great," I think "more spider funerals."

Time to work in my kitchen, or as I like to refer to it, the lab. I mentioned trying to make tiny pies in a couple of previous blog posts. Today is the day. Time to experiment. I thawed out the frozen pie dough for ten minutes, rolled it out on the floured counter, measured my jar - inside, outside and diameter - so I knew the size of the dough rounds to cut out. Soon I had four not bad looking tiny mincemeat pies made and in the oven.

Instructions online called for an oven temp of 400F. I thought that sounded a bit high, but followed instructions, and set timer for 20 minutes. 15 minutes later I open the oven to see...

...smoke rolling out. My eyes go slitty and I make a double scrunchy face! Nothing appears burned. 400F was way too high, as I suspected. Leaving the door open until all the smoke dissipated, I lowered the oven temp to 350F, set the timer for 10 minutes. In 10 minutes they are baking nicely - no more smoke. And 10 minutes after that, they are done.

Richard comes home from putting a tarp on Ron's roof - don't ask - and his nose is grabbed by the delectable odor of fresh baked mince pie, one of his favorites. We try them after lunch. Ohhhhh, they are tender, flaky, and the filling to pie crust ratio is perfect. Ambrosial. Next time will be with my own pie dough and my own homemade filling. I can't wait to tell Kate about them.

Replete from our dessert, I take the kids into the garden yard while Richard mows grass in the dog yard. It is +25 on the deck in the shade, my favorite day time temperature. We lazily wander about, looking at the flowers and plants, and yes, I DID remember my camera.

Meandering past the King apple tree, camera in one hand, cane in the other, something swipes across my face. GAK, spider web! Running from the garden boat to the fence. Now they are using motion detection to find me!

My eyes go slitty again, and I make a triple scrunchy face...

...and I says a swear.

It Bears Remembering

Ever day before I go out into the yard, I tell myself to take my camera. Every time. And every day, with few exceptions, I forget. I have a nice camera, got it two and a half years ago, after I had my first knee replaced. It's a Kodak Z7590 digital camera with a 10x zoom, and several manual and automatic settings. I love it. It does what I want it to do, when I want it to. I take some good photo's, some really good photo's and some bad ones. It is light, easy to carry, fits in my hand. Sooooo...

...why in heck can't I remember to take it outside with me when I go. I carry it with me when ever I go in the van, every time, but going out into the yard, sigh, only when I want to photograph something specific.

I think I have learned my lesson though, finally. I think I have learned to take it with me from now on. Tonight I went out into the yard with the dogs for their evening constitutional, before dark. I deactivate doggy mines, Richard picks up windfall apples, we chat all the while.

Emily, our 13 year old dog, is over by the garden boat, looking through the fence, south towards the big pear trees. Suddenly she rears up and begins barking ferociously - or as ferociously as a 10 pound dog can. The other 5 race to the fence and mimic her. I am used to them barking, they are after all dogs, and they do take exception to various and sundry noises from Cherry Creek Road. Richard wanders over to look, I, meanwhile, just think it is one of the neighborhood cats that patrol our place.

Richard calls to me: "Bear". I reply "huh?" Intelligent reply, no? He repeats himself, all the while the dogs are going berserk, "BEAR". "Um, really? Where?" Another intelligent reply, yes? He points at the pear trees "DOWN THERE". Finally it reaches my brain...BEAR!

By now I am at the fence looking, oh about 300 feet, from a not so Cute Little Island Black Bear. And he is looking back at us, with a "What you looking at!?" look on his face, not the least bit intimidated by 6 yappy little dogs and two humans. "Maybe you should take the dogs inside", Richard says. I commented later that he looked as if he was trying to decide whether to eat the dogs or wipe his backside with them.

I had a perfect shot of him, a side shot, full face looking at me, haughty look, perhaps imagining one of the dogs with an apple, or in this instance a pear, shoved in it's mouth, feet in the air, on a platter, and MY CAMERA WAS IN THE HOUSE IN IT'S CRADLE ON MY COMPUTER! Arrrrrgggghhh!

Of course, by the time I hobbled into the house, corralled the dogs, grabbed my camera, hobbled back out to the garden boat, Richard had scared the bear away.

Bear will be back. Tonight. After dark. When the dogs, and we, are inside. With the doors and windows locked and the blinds pulled down tight...I believe I mentioned about my bear paranoia in a previous blog. Or two. He'll be back and will climb the pear tree, tossing pears down to the ground to pick up and eat at his leisure. That's what bears do.

And me? What do I do? You mean...besides forget to take my camera outside when ever I go out?

Sigh. That photo at the top of the page is not one I took.

But I think I will remember my camera from now on.

No, really.