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!!!??

Fruit Fly Olympics

It's 9am and I am outside already rolling up the beach mats and the shower curtain on the garden boat. Going to be a hot one today, and don't want to burn things. Things look good, although I make a note to water later, after the boat is in shade. With the warm sun these last days, the rain of a couple of weeks ago has evaporated. I lose myself again in the beauty of the view for a while. Then become aware of a faint tap-tapping above me. I look up to see a pair of tiny Downy Woodpeckers busily hunting for bugs in the King apple tree. We wander about checking this geranium, that fuchsia, those marigolds, noting that most of the pots need watering as well.

I hear a starling, or starlings maybe, in the holly bushes making coaxing noises and of course, my Muttering Murder of Crows in the Cherry trees. They mutter to one another, either critiquing my apparel - pajamas - or checking out the tomatoes and peas. Yes, I AM paranoid about my tomatoes and peas, what of it!?

Definitely time for cappuccino.

Now I am dressed in my usual jeans and t-shirt and starting my day. Of course, Richard has been up and active since dawn cracked, but as I mentioned before, I am a very slow starter in the morning. I take notice of that summer annoyance - fruit flies - flitting around hanging basket of apples and make a scrunchy face. Richard comments on them and suggests I make my homemade fruit fly trap: a cone of paper suspended in a jar with a 1/2 inch of apple cider vinegar in the bottom; works every time...

...but not this time. Hmmmmm, curious. Two hours later and there is still a cloud of the foul creatures flitting about. I add white wine vinegar to the cider vinegar in the jar, then stand back and watch. They pay it no mind at all, instead start flitting around my face. I scrunch my eyes and imagine I can hear them snickering at me, chattering to one another with their tiny, high-pitched voices about the stoopid human as they get in my nose and eyes. Double scrunchy face.

Giving a shrug I go on with what I am doing; all the while my mind is working on the fruit fly problem. I look up again at my hanging fruit & vegetable basket and it strikes me - gee, maybe there is SOMETHING IN AMONGST THE APPLES THAT IS ATTRACTING THEM, DOPEY! So I start to remove the apples one by one by one by...eeeew GAK! There, right smack in the middle of the pile, is an extremely rotten apple, with dozens of tiny fruit flies practicing their dives: forward dive pike from a standing start, back dive in the tuck and, my personal favorite, the free position. Big Scrunchy Face here!

Richard dispatches the foul apple to the garbage and the little fruit flies soon disappear. I keep one eye watching the fruit fly trap, but see nothing. Still, I leave it there; it is after all summer and you can count on them being back, with their dirty little feet walking alllll over the nice fresh fruit and veggies and doing their level best to spoil whatever they touch...maybe its time for another cappuccino, I'm getting a tad bit testy.

We wander back out to the yard. Richard has gone to work - 12 till 8 today - but managed to mow the garden yard for me before he left. I notice that in the tiny pea patch - that has only two very sad looking pea plants, some Scarlet Runner beans, sage, thyme and tomato plants - there are some tomatoes slowly ripening. Maybe there will be some ready for Rylan to pick when she is here on the 23rd. Over at the garden boat, I see one tiny red Tumbling Tom tomato starting to ripen. Will save that for Rylan too. The peas are setting more and more pods everyday. There won't be gallons of them, but maybe we will get a small feed with dinner one night.

Back inside, I check the fruit fly trap. Ah Hah! Suckers! There are 3 fruit flies inside. Will leave it to attract more. Time to vacuum and tidy the kitchen, get dinner plans on go. Periodically I smugly check my trap. At the 4pm trap check, I don't see any fruit flies...I mean NO FRUIT FLIES! My eyes go slitty and search from side to side. How can that be? The little beggars have made a daring escape, and are even now laughing at me from behind their tiny wings. This trap is supposed to be inescapable! Does this mean that, as I have used this trap over the last few years on succeeding generations of fruit flies, the fruit flies have become smarter? have figured out ways to escape the trap and it's been hard-wired into their tiny fruit fly DNA? that I have to devise a different trap?

Naw, it just means I was careless when I made the darned trap and leaving a gap between the top of the jar and the paper cone, and they were able to push through. Phew, for a minute there I was worried about evolving intelligence in fruit flies. Not that there is much concern there. I mean, fruit fly intelligence, that's just laughable...

...still, I DID see a few fruit flies buzzing around my computer monitor the other day. And I DID see one sitting on my keyboard, moving from key to key until I chased it away.

Hmmmmmm.

And the Geek Shall Inherit the Earth

This week I am a computer technician. Got some upgrades for my computer and since I am a Certified Computer Technician, I am going to play geek. Richard was over at Walmart and saw a computer monitor he was quite impressed with, came home and suggested maybe we should get a new one - our old one being quite elderly for a monitor. Now when I say our old one, you understand I am talking about the computer in the living room, of course, which is 7 years old, not the one in the bedroom which is only 1 year old. The "new" computer has an old-fashioned CRT monitor, not one of the sleek, modern, LCD Wide Screen ones.

When I start talking computer components Richard's eyes usually start to glaze over much like mine do when he gets into the technical aspect of an automobile engine. So when he suggests a new LCD monitor my eyes open wide. Off I go to scope out monitors at Staples, for comparison, and to ensure that Walmart really does have the best deal.

They do, and soon we do too! An Acer 22" Wide Screen LCD monitor and she's a beauty...I connect her to the "old" computer and take her out for a spin. It becomes evident - to me at least - that while the graphics card in this old computer is adequate, we really need a new, more modern and up-to-date one. With more RAM. Better Graphics capability. And while I, er, ah, that is, WE are at it, why not get a TV Tuner for the computer as well. I mean, we have the 22" Wide Screen Monitor, a TV Tuner to watch TV on the new monitor would be just the ticket.

We had plans to drive up to Courtenay for something to do and I suggest a stop at Futureshop while there. We browse, Richard in large appliances, me in graphics cards. I am surprised to find a card in my budget as well as a TV Tuner and soon the new components, a BFG nVIDIA Graphics Card and a Hauppauge WinTV-HVR-1250 internal HDTV Card, are in my hand and we are out the door. I read the instructions...

...Graphics card calls for a PCI Express x16 slot. New technology since I last purchased any upgrades. Do I have one of those? And TV Tuner calls for PCI Express x1 slot. Do I have one of those? Hmmmmm. I had the cover off that "new" computer the other day, first time since I got it. Why have I not had it off before? Because, silly, it was under warranty and I didn't want to invalidate the warranty by taking the cover off. And...I just never got around to it. So now I am trying to remember what it looked like inside. I think I have both of those. Fingers crossed.

Turns out I do. Install the Graphics card first, and that was a breeze. Made quite a difference to the video display. Now for the TV Tuner. Installs and sets up easily. It comes with a remote control, that's the reason I bought it, and the remote is IR - Infrared. That's where the problem begins. You see, in order for the remote to work, it has to have and IR sensor plugged into the computer - into the TV Tuner card. Unfortunately whoever designed the tuner card, didn't take into consideration that the hole to plug the IR sensor into shouldn't be right at the edge of the tuner card as that means that YOU CANNOT PLUG THE SENSOR IN BECAUSE IT HITS THE EDGE OF THE COMPUTER AND WON'T SEAT ALL THE WAY IN LIKE IT NEEDS TO BE SO THE REMOTE WON'T WORK!

I call Bente and ask if perhaps Max needs more oysters for the store - Max being the Codfather of Codfather Seafood here in Port Alberni, and Bente being the Codmother - so we can have a reason to make a trip up to Courtenay. He does, and we do. I return the poorly designed tuner card and then, having done my research, go to London Drugs and purchase what I feel is an even better one, an ATI TV Wonder HD 600 USB Stick. All you have to remember here is USB because it just plugs into a USB port, you install the software and it works...

...sigh, until you turn your computer off. When you turn your computer back on, the tuner has lost it's tiny mind. Uninstall and reinstall the software, and it all works again...

...until you turn off the computer again and it loses it's tiny mind again. This is getting really old, really fast. I make a scrunchy face and sit down to figure out what to do, besides taking this tuner back up to Courtenay to return it.

And I am still working on it. I THINK I will take a 200 gigabyte drive I have, put it into the "new" computer, install Windows XP on it, then install all the software on it that is necessary, then install the TV Tuner on it and see if it will stay working. If it does, well, good. If it doesn't, I am NOT playing Computer Geek again for at least another year.

Seriously!

I mean it!

Really!

Although, I would like to get Windows Vista Premium to put on the "new" computer though, it only has Vista Basic and that's a pain. And I would like to add more RAM. Oh, and when I was in Futureshop the other day, I saw this neat gadget for computer that you can use to copy your old VHS tapes to DVD. And the "new" computer doesn't have a DVD Burner, only a CD/RW burner and DVD player combo so I would like to get a DVD burner for it. And a new web cam....

Muttering Crows & Rosie's Nose

Another gorgeous Valley morning and we wander again to the garden. As I roll up the beach mats and the shower curtain on the boat, I hear them coming...the Muttering Murder of Crows. They do like to sit and watch me work in the yard. I cannot tell them apart, but they have distinctive personalities. One is a real clown. Today there is a lot of noise out by the bridge beside our gate. Mason, my Bichon boy, finds it all quite annoying and he lets the world at large know this by barking his opinions.

I move about the garden yard picking up windfall apples and Pippi wanders with me, nosing about, checking out bugs and things that move. The other girls are sunbathing and sniffing the gentle breeze. In the background there are crow mutterings and then...something else. It sounds like a dog barking. A dog barking up in the cherry tree behind the house. Hmmmmm. I had a dog once who climbed trees. Had to watch Annie like a hawk or she would be 25 feet up as fast as you could blink. But I knew none of the Bichon's were climbers.

Orienting on the Wild Cherry tree, I see the culprit. One of the Muttering Murder of Crows has taken up a new vocation - that of dog mimic. Mason barks, and the crow barks, only it comes out more of a "mark, mark, mark". He hasn't mastered that "b" in bark that canines have. I snicker and shake my head at his cleverness. Time for a cappuccino.

Today is Bente's Anniversary and I have decided to go to Naesgaards and purchase a big bag of fresh, green, garden peas for her as a present. Now that may sound like an odd present, but it is one I know she will love, being a green-garden-pea addict like she is. I meet her at Quality Foods to give her her gift and she giggles with delight, immediately diving in and eating two peas. I am pleased that she is pleased.

I grill steaks to perfection - rare - for our dinner tonight and cook potatoes and corn. I made the mistake of using a purchased grill rub instead of making my own and the purchased rub doesn't agree with me. Soon I am sitting on the bed and watching television, attempting to digest dinner.

Richard is thumping about upstairs, moving things, who knows what, but it annoys the dogs and they periodically run hooting and barking out to the kitchen letting him know how they feel about the noise. This goes on a few times, and each time I try and shush them and each time I am unsuccessful. Sigh. Finally at 10:30pm I can't take it anymore. This time there is whining, barking and growling as well as a soft thump, so it is time to investigate.

Rounding the corner I notice that the gate is on the floor, Pippi is trapped in the kitchen and there are 4 Bichons gathered in a circle around Rosie. And there is something dark, and hairy on the floor at Rosie's feet. I swiftly cross the floor. Rosie just as swiftly grabs the dark and hairy thingy in her mouth. I even more swiftly grab Rosie by the scruff of the neck and hoist her up before she swallows whatever that dark and hairy thing is. Rushing to the kitchen I holler up the stairs to Richard that I really need help and he comes to my aid.

"Rosie has something in her mouth and I need you to get it out before she swallows it" I holler. Out of the corner of my eye I see something dangling from the corner of her mouth. "And please tell me that isn't a...

"...mouse!" Richard replies as he pries her jaws open and removes the vile, disgusting, well-chewed and very dead little mouse.

"Awwwgggghhhhh!" I reply.

The mousie remains are quickly dispatched into the bushes and an extremely annoyed Rosie rushes around the kitchen looking for more mice. Where she found it is not a mystery. The gate on the floor answers that question - Rosie, and the others, must have chased it behind the gate where it leans against the wall. When Rosie nosed it out behind the gate, the gate fell, and she grabbed it. Where the mouse came from remains a mystery, although I have a habit of leaving the back patio door open through out the day when I am home, an inviting portal for tiny mice.

Time for bed, my stomach has had enough today, and Rosie has a new moniker: Rosie Mousie Killer. She loves it.

I'd rather she kept her kills outside.

I am glad she got the mouse before it got into my room though.

Hmmmm. Wonder if that mouse was an advance scout for the Mole People.

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.

The Ladybug and the Tiger Slug

Summer is back after a week of rain. The Valley is basking in sunshine and so is the garden yard and so am I. The Bichons and I wander out in the yard at our usual 10am, check the mini pea and bean patch by the shed first. I look for and find the two peas that managed to survive the Mole People so far, hidden beneath bean leaves. My mind notices that there is one pea from each of the two varieties that got planted, from about 100 pea seeds in all, that have survived - one seems to be doing well, one not so well. By now I have become quite philosophical about it all and give a shrug.

The kids suddenly alert that "der be Monstahs inna yahd!" I walk over to the fence where they are, looking towards the big pear tree and see cute little Island Doe Mule Deer and her adorable twin fawns. Richard had mentioned seeing them on several occasions, the most recent of which was over at the barn. What he saw goes to prove how truly clever deer are. He heard sounds coming from the corral, and knowing the cattle were all out in the pasture, went to check to see what was going on. He was surprised to see the twin fawns there. The doe had put them in the pen for safekeeping while she was off looking for food. They were running back and forth, but made no attempt to jump out. He left them alone so as not to frighten them

I wander back to the garden boat to roll up the beach mats and shower curtain. The boat is lush, no other way to describe it: tomatoes everywhere, the remaining pea plants with pea pods filling out, zucchini starting to form, flowers blooming. Honey bees are buzzing everywhere I look. Meandering around, I come to the Fern leaf Dill. There in its heart, as busy as can be, is a bright, orange Ladybug. She is gorgeous against the green foliage and yellow blossom of the dill.

My Garden Boat started out as an experiment. I knew I could get flowers to grow in it - after all it is just a big flower pot - but wasn't sure what, if any, vegetables would thrive. Now I have my answer: tomatoes - check; jalapeno peppers - check; peas - check; yellow zucchini - check; onions - check; beans - check; herbs of all kinds - big check; and of course flowers.

I move around the far side where the corn has tiny cobs forming silk - 1, 2, 3, 4...scrunchy face! The slugs have been here eating the silk from one of the tiny corn cobs. My eyes go slitty and shift from side to side looking for more slug evidence. There, a Tiger Slug! I quickly pick and flick him over the fence and across the drive.

Time for cappuccino. We wander back inside.

It's afternoon now and I am a baker. Yes, I am still trying to figure out the recipe booklet for the new bread machine. I found a great Brioche recipe on the Internet - the one in the booklet has incorrect measurements - that I changed a bit and mixed up in the machine. I decided to make Cinnamon Raisin Brioche, and when the dough was finished it's first rise in the machine pan, I pressed it out on the counter into a rough rectangle, slathered it in brown sugar, cinnamon, and raisins, then rolled it up to form a loaf. Oh the dough is soooooo silky it can't help but be delish! And the aroma of it baking is mouth watering, to say the least. My mind is abuzz with variations on a Brioche theme.

While it bakes, we go back to the garden yard to do more gardening. The watermelon plant I put in 2 months ago has failed to thrive so I brutally yank it out by the roots and toss it over the Disco CD fence - an appeasement to the cute little Island Buck Mule Deer. In it's place I two zucchini plants that have been sitting on the potting table for a while. I'm curious to see how they do.

It's evening now and Richard comes out to help put the garden boat to bed. As we work, I tell him about the corn silk and the Tiger Slug and what I did to the slug when I found it. He gives me a smirk as he walks away, saying "Are you sure that was a good idea? I mean, with the way your luck has been running with critters around here...now his Tiger Slug buddies will probably come in the night to avenge your attack on him!"

I snort. "Yeah, righ..." I start to say and then I flash on an army of Tiger Slugs and Black Slugs squiggling through the fence to the garden yard, some dragging their deceased slug brother on a litter, while others brandish mini garden implements and still more carry flaming torches to light their way. I give my head a shake. The stuff of nightmares.

Still...I don't think I'll take the dogs out in the yard after dark for a few days.

You just can't be too careful.

...Read the Manual

It's day 2 of the new breadmaker and I am determined to master the recipes in the instruction booklet. The breadmaker I've already mastered, that's easy. The recipes in the booklet on the other hand...

...I spent an hour last night trying to come to grips with the "terminology" - or lack thereof. For example, PROG. 7: DOUGH. Here is what I see:

Quantity is 200g
Ok, well, that is straight forward. 200g is, according to the online conversion calculator, 7.05479 ounces. Hmph. Uh, oh, that can't be right. I mean the 200g can't be right because of the rest of the ingredients. When you look at the 750g loaf ingredients, it calls for 3 and 1/3 cups flour and 1 cup plus 1T of water so this dough recipe should weigh, well, way more. Siiiiigggh.

hey mom

Ingredients
Flour 2
Semolina flour 1
Salt 1
Oil 1
Water 3/1 + 2
Yeast 1
Hmmmmmm. Not so much. Methinks something got lost in translation when they were trying to write this manual.

mom!

Not now guys, I'm real busy; we'll go out later.

Well then. You can see the problem, right? I mean, I'm not imagining things, right? And what the heck is the amount of water? 3/1 + 2 cups??? Let's see, 2 cups flour plus 1cup semolina is 3 cups flour. So, 3 cups of flour should need about, ummmmm, 1 to 1.25 cups liquid. I think.

but mom, mom!

Aaaaarrrrgggghhhh. Ok, ok, I'll take a break. WHAT?!

um, der's a deehr monstah inna yahd
uh huh, i sawd it tew
yup, a deehr monstah
com kwik mom!
it eatin' stuff
kwik mom open dooah we scawe dem away

Oh. Well. Um, crap, there's a deer, no 2 deer. They are on the other side of the holly bushes, about 20 feet from the door and garden yard. I scrunch my eyes. It is the cute little Island Buck Mule deer and his mate. Opening the door to the dog yard I holler at the cute little Island Mule deer to leave my garden boat yard alone while the kids run out hooting and hollering showing how tough they are. The cute little Island Mule Deer snicker and saunter slowly away shaking their heads at the dumb Island Human and the dumb Island Canines.

Back indoors, I settle down to demystify the recipes. Where was I? Ummmm, oh right, weight of dough versus ingredient amounts and what the heck IS the water measurement? I'm getting a headache.

I look at some of the other recipes. My headache grows. I really want to try and make some quickbread in this new machine. But the recipe...well, like I said yesterday, I can follow it up to the salt. They lose me there:
Eggs 3
Butter 1/2
Sugar 1 plus 1/2
Salt 1/1
Flour 2 plus 2
Lemon 1
Yeast 2,5

Hmph. So, salt...1 teaspoon?? Lemon...juice? of one lemon? Lemon zest? And we know there is no yeast in quick bread, so, 2.5...teaspoons of...baking powder? Anybody?

I am going to try it. Going to make the lemon bread. Elsewhere in the booklet, in troubleshooting, they refer a few times to baking powder where they should mean yeast.

Here we go again.

Say it with me now:

"What could possibly go wrong...again?"