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.

Bear Berries

I have plans for today. First, wander out to the yard and see what's new. On the potting table in the yard, my Gazania is FINALLY blooming. It is one I saved over from last year, along with lots of other plants, in the back porch. All the others started blooming 3 months ago, but this Gazania has been really slow growing. The wait has been worth it though, and it has produced a brilliant golden-yellow blossom with maroon accents. I notice it has more buds too. Perhaps it will bloom well into fall.

Moving on, I check the progress of my Strawberry Rhubarb plant that Dad sent me through the mail. It is doing amazingly well, having 3 new leaves and another leaf bud showing. Rhubarb is one of my favorite fruits. It mixes well with all other fruit. Everything appears good by the house so we move on to the garden boat. Richard rolls up the garden hose - silly man, I am just going to pull it back out today and water later - so he can pick up the wind fall apples without tripping over it.

We talk about the garden boat, and ways to expand this method of gardening next year. He doesn't know it yet, but I am already thinking about finding more large containers to put in this yard and the front dog yard, and fill them with dirt to plant vegetables in. That means we have to increase the height of the fence too. Think I'll wait to spring that one on him for a while yet.

The phone rings as I go in the kitchen door. It is the hospital in Comox with news about my surgery. The booking nurse informs me my surgeon, Dr. Sundby, is leaving until the end of October and then will be gone again for six months at the beginning of the New Year. He is going to Afghanistan. So my window of opportunity for surgery is small. Either have it November or December, or wait at least a year. Needless to say, I choose November and November 21st is the tentative date. I don't mind recuperating in the winter. I can't be outside gardening anyway, so will be inside planning my garden, and learning to walk again.

Richard leaves for work, and I decide to garden a bit, plant those plants I didn't get planted last week, then vacuum the floors. The dogs are in the yard with me, and when I break for an iced tea, they follow me in. I get caught up on the living room computer trying to solve the puzzle of my TV Tuner card, and why I can't get it to work properly. I forget all about the vacuum.

At 2pm, Mason is sitting with his chin on the patio door sill, eyes half closed, dozing. Suddenly he flies out the door barking an alert. Pippi and the rest fly after him, and a huge commotion ensues. Mason barks at the world in general throughout the day, but this bark is different. I step outside to see what the fuss is about. They are all standing up at the fence like meercats, frozen, looking through the holly and hawthorn to the other side of the driveway, and I see it...

...BLACK BEAR! Quickly I herd them inside, lock the patio door, close the curtains. Then I shut and lock the kitchen door, pull down the blinds, make sure back door is locked and close the back patio door into the small dog pen.

I know, I know, locking the doors and closing the blinds may be a little irrational - ok, a lot irrational - but it is how I cope with bears in the yard.

Then I make a decision and grab my camera. I sneak out the livingroom patio door, skulk across the grass, around the big cherry tree - using it for cover, and then over to the fence, all the while watching the bear. He is in the trees heading for the mouth of the driveway and I think he is going to exit the yard and head across Cherry Creek Road. I am wrong. He chooses instead to head towards the Saskatoon's - Kate's favorites - at the bottom of the drive. I stealthily photograph him as best I can, trying to zoom in on him as he eats, even going so far as to tape a short video of him.

At one point a noise on the road frightens him, and he takes off running but hunger overcomes fear, and he soon turns back to the berries again. I turn back to the house.

As I enter, I realize my hands are a little bit shaky, an adrenalin reaction to my "fight or flight" response - I choose flight - to bears.

I move from room to room, peeking through blinds, around curtains, and 6 little white dogs trail with me. I begin to feel like the Pied Piper. We see no further sign of the bear. Still, we wait 2 full hours before venturing out again. Mason stays on the step outside the patio door, watching and sniffing the breeze. Meanwhile, Pippi parks herself just inside the door. They are on guard.

Later I go out to the garden yard and take more photo's of my boat garden. I am afraid that one of these days that little bear is going to get bold enough to climb the apple tree that hangs out over the boat. Then, with my creature luck, he will venture too far out on a limb - I can hear the cracking of the branch in my mind - and my garden boat will be history.

An irresistible force meets an immovable object.

Irresistible force 1
Immovable object 0

Hence the photo's.

Paranoid? Who, me!!!??

You Don't Look a Year Over 24!

is it mohnin' yet?
dunno
hey mom, mom, is it mohnin' now?
shhhhh, don' wake her
mom, mom, mom
happy an'bersry mom
whatsa an'bersry?
dunno

I wake to the sounds of muttering dogs today. Guess they need to go outside, so up we get. Stumble through my morning routine, finally have both eyes open, but not necessarily focused - normal for me. Yawn my way out to the garden yard to see that Richard is raking up June, July & August drop apples. How can he be so cheerful and do labor like this so early in the morning? The dogs cast about looking for signs of Mole People, but they are all underground. Going to be a hot one today.

Richard wishes me Happy Anniversary. Both eyes now focus and I reply in kind. It is our 25th anniversary today. 25 years ago we were married in a small town church on one of the hottest days of the year and it is supposed to be just as hot here today. He mentions that we should get ourselves a plant in honor of the special occasion and I quickly agree.

Off to the nursery we go. Richard is not much of a plant specialist, doesn't know a lot of the nomenclature but knows what he likes. And me, I love them all. As we walk in there are several gorgeous Bougainvillea by the entryway, their papery blossoms rich with jewel-like colors. Richard is quite taken with them and they are on sale. Bonus!

Colyn's Nursery isn't busy so we can take our time meandering around before making up our minds. We look at hanging baskets filled with Firecracker Trailing Begonias, pots of Purple Celosia, complete with a honey bee, a beautiful golden yellow Hibiscus, then wander into the greenhouse. I notice a deep wine colored Martha Washington Geranium I have been looking for. I have the white and the pink one so this one will be a great contrast to those two. Richard admires several other multi-plant pots, one with a vibrant orange Begonia and some purple-foliaged, scarlet flowered fucshia's. We decide on a variegated-leaf Bougainvillea with bright pink flowers.

In the van, I text message Bente and then Kate that Richard has bought me a Bougainvillea at the Nursery. Kate's message comes back saying "O, cool!"

"What Nursery?" quickly comes the reply from Bente.
"Colyn's", I text back, "but we are off to Naesgaard's now".
"When will you be home?" she asks, and I text that we'll be back in a half hour. "I'll be waiting for you at your house," she responds. Hmmmmmm.

We look around Naesgaards, I find a 6-pak of white Zinnias as well as two 6-paks of deep orange and one of a pretty dusty pink on clearance which I purchase. I love Zinnias and I can already picture them in a pot in the yard. Then off we go home.

True to her word, Bente is patiently waiting for us, with hugs and an Anniversary card she has made. Then she opens her van door and laughs at our expression. There sit two more gorgeous Bougainvillea, one gold flowered and one the color of Apple Blossoms!

After the laughter dies down, she explains: "Kate e-mailed me and asked me to pick one of these up for your anniversary from her and Jon because she knows how much you love them. They were on sale, so I bought two of them. I nearly had a heart attack when you text messaged me that you were at Colyn's. I must have just missed you," she giggles. Laughing some more, we put them on the deck and admire them again, then go in the house for iced tea.

After tea, we wander to the garden boat, talking about how and where to plant our new Bougainvillea. I notice some of my pea pods on the boat are fat and juicy, so pick a handful for Bente. She LOVES peas.

After she leaves I go to the Internet for Bougainvillea info. Interesting stuff:
"Big and rowdy, loud and lovely, this sprawling woody vine is colorful showboater wherever it is grown. It was named for Louis Antoine de Bougainville, a Frenchman who sailed around the world in 1767." says floridata.com. WOW! They can grow up to 40 feet. Time to go admire them some more and take photo's.

Mom and Dad call from Leduc with Anniversary Greetings and we reminisce about our wedding day 25 years ago. Mom says "wait til you have been married 61 years like Dad and me". I can't imagine it. Our daughter Gina phoned last night from Edmonton with her best wishes and we had a great visit. I had talked to my - yes I am using the royal MY here - brother Kelly yesterday to thank him for his gift. MY brother Rick also e-mailed best wishes and Richard's sister Gert sent a lovely card. Then had a quick visit via phone with son Hammond with best wishes from Megan, Rylan and him.

Richard has gone to work, so the dogs and I trek out to photograph the Bougainvillea. My unconcious mind picks up a discordant noise while I am arranging the plants, and then my concious mind says "LISTEN!" I hear the sounds of tree branches breaking down on the creek. UH OH! I listen more...BEAR!!!! I quickly and quietly move across the yard, not alerting the dogs to what is there. I spy him in a plum tree that he is attempting to climb, after the juicy ripening plums in the top. Out comes my camera and I zoom in as best I can on him...maybe there will be some photo's turn out. Then I quickly shoo the dogs in the house, close the gate to the garden yard, lock the house door behind me, and close the window blinds.

Whaaaat? You think bears can't open doors or peek in windows?? Of course they can...can't they? Not taking a chance, given my luck with wild creatures and my garden yard, I keep checking through the blinds to see if he is out there close by. I am NOT a bear fan. Yes, yes, I know, I am the first to email cute little baby bear stories and photo's, but I have a healthy respect bordering on deep fear and paranoia about big ole black bears. Believe me, it is disconcerting to walk out on the deck and have a bear charge the fence at your dog, or walk out to go blackberry picking only to have your dog hip check you out of the way and then go roaring after a bear, chasing it away from the berry patch where you would have been picking.

Give me Mole People. Give me a Slug Army. Give me cute little Island Buck & Doe Mule deer. Give me my Muttering Murder of Crows. Anytime. Just don't, please, give me Lumbering Island Black Bears.

Mason says he could take him with one paw tied behind his back. Ummhmmm, sure my little 10 pound lion-hearted Bichon.

Time to eat dinner.