Bear!

 

          Bear!

          We had a bear visit my kitchen patio!

          Let me tell you the story.

          It was Wednesday late afternoon when I noticed my thirty-gallon trashcan of sunflower and thistles seeds was missing. It used to sit right here behind the screen door next to my five-gallon bucket of lime and it was gone!

          Did I move it and not remember? I think and check inside behind the kitchen door. That’s the only place I would put it because my feeders are here. It wasn’t there. Well, at one time I had the seeds in the utility room but I’m certain I hadn’t moved it in there. I’d have to walk past it every morning and night when I take care of the cats. Nonetheless, I check. It wasn’t there either. I went into the living room where Mike was watching TV. “Did you move my trashcan of seeds?” I asked even though I knew he hadn’t.

          “No. Why?”

          “They’re gone! My whole bucketful of seeds is gone!”

          “Maybe you moved it,” he suggested.

          “I didn’t. The only place I would’ve put it is inside the kitchen door and it’s not there!” My mind didn’t immediately go to bear. It went first to someone taking it, but who and why? Then I thought of bear. “Maybe a bear drug it off,” I play a movie in my head as I’m talking. “If he took it down near the road maybe someone saw it and took it.”

          “You wanna go look for it?” Mike asked.

          I did. We got on the golf cart and Mike heads out. “Let’s check up on the hill first.”

          Coming down from the upper barn, a flash of orange catches my eye. “What’s that?” I asked.

          “Where?”

          “Up in the field. Back up.”

          Mike is a good and obedient husband and backs up.

          “It’s my trashcan!”

          That stinkin’ bear had carried my thirty-gallon bucket with a half-full fifty-pound bag of sunflower seeds and a mostly full ten-pound bag of thistle seeds the whole way from my back patio, up the hill, across a water-filled ditch, over a fence, and into the neighbor’s field. Then he opened the can. I gathered up what seeds I could and left the rest for the birds. The lid now bears the scars from its run-in with the bear.

          That night I brought in my birdfeeders and put out my critter-cam. I put it on a pole on the kitchen patio. The next morning, I go out and my lime bucket is out in the yard. The lid was still on it so I don’t know if he couldn’t get the lid off or if he somehow smelled that it wasn’t food. I got the camera and downloaded the pictures. Besides our own cats, I see that Pepé visited, so did Whiskers, and Mr. Coon. Then Bear came.

            He nosed around but after everyone else had already been there, there was no food left.

I guess that’s when he decided to take a chance on my bucket of lime — and there it goes! 

          Bear’s carrying it like it’s nothing. I weighed it. This bucket weighs twenty-seven pounds. I can’t imagine what my seed bucket weighed.

          The perch for the birds is forty-four inches to the bottom and he almost comes up to that. Adult black bears stand around three-feet high when on all fours so this is an adult. And before y’all give me a hard time about this, just know that I normally bring my birdfeeders in at night so I don’t attract bears. Okay, that’s a lie. But just a little one. I bring my feeders in because the coons tend to get into them and I wasn’t thinking much about bears at all. We’ve lived here full time for almost five years now and have never had a problem with bears. And I’ve only ever seen one in real life. As for my bucket of seed — the only other time I brought it in was because the coons were getting into it. It’s not been a problem this winter so it’s lived on the patio all winter.

          “Peg, what do you know about black bears?” you ask.

          I’m so glad you asked!

          Black bears can live 20-35 years in the wild. Females are called sows, males are called boars, babies are cubs, and a group of bears is a sleuth or sloth of bears.

Sows have their first litter at age three. Gestation is seven months with the cubs being born in January. That’s why January’s full moon is sometimes called the ‘bear moon'. At birth the cubs weigh between eight and ten ounces. A litter can be one to five cubs but three is the norm. Cubs are born blind with a covering of fine hair and open their eyes at six weeks. In two more weeks they walk. They leave the den at three months and will stay with their mother for a year and a half.

Bears usually don’t travel very far. A female will range two to six miles whereas a male may range up to twenty miles, overlapping the area of several females.

Black bears are omnivores but eat mostly vegetation.

Not all black bears are black. Some may be brown or cinnamon colored, and some have a white patch of hair on their chests called a blaze.

Black bears are usually shy around people and seldom aggressive unless they feel threatened. If you see a bear, don’t run. They can run faster than you can. Don’t look a bear in the eyes but do make lots of noise and wave your arms and for heaven’s sake, whatever you do, don’t stand between the bear and her young.

Most attacks take place because people don’t let the bear know they’re there. If they do attack don’t play dead as you would a grizzly bear encounter, instead fight back. The black bear will then most likely retreat.

Black bears are considered big game and are hunted in 28 states. Spring hunts are illegal in 20 of those states because the bears are just emerging from their dens and are weak and lethargic making them vulnerable targets. Although it’s illegal to kill a nursing mother, it’s hard to tell the gender of a bear and could result in orphaned cubs that then starve to death. Approximately 30,000 to 40,000 bears are killed annually.

He only came two nights and I haven't seen him since.

Now you know.

 >>>*<<<

Mike made an appointment to get his hair cut this week. “I’m not going with you,” I warned him in advance.

He wasn’t having any of that. “No, you come with me.”

It may seem silly to some of you but Mike hates to go anyplace alone. I chalk it up to all the years he spent alone driving truck from one end of this country to the other so I try not to get too frustrated with him. “You can get your hair cut on your own. I’ll stay here and work on my stuff.” I was working on pinwheels and didn’t want to leave in the middle of it. But I did finish with what I wanted to do so I was reconsidering going with him. I can always sit in the car and get a little book-reading in.

“Peg,” Mike called from the living room. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What?” I called back then left my seat to go talk to him.

“You go with me to get my hair cut and I’ll stop on the way back and you can take pictures of that truck.”

I knew which truck he meant. Back in January I took pictures from the road and told you that someday I was going to have Mike stop and I was going to walk in for pictures.

 “Okay,” I agreed. I never did tell him that I’d already changed my mind about going with him anyway.

It’s spring and stuff is popping out all over the place. After Mike parked at Paula’s, I asked her if I could walk around and take pictures. She let me before so I was pretty sure she’d let me again. Her Yorkies were out in a pen and barked at us. “Do they bite?” I asked.

Paula thought about it for a moment. “No, they shouldn’t.”

“I’m gonna pet ’em,” I told her and left Mike to get his ears lowered.

Paula has a little Itsy and Ginger although her Itsy was way blonder than our Itsy was. But her Ginger — Belle did nip at me. I wasn’t especially afraid and let her nip me a little. Once I didn’t pull away, she didn’t bite anymore. I guess I took all the fun out of it for her. It made me really miss our little Yorkies but Mike isn’t ready for another dog.

“If I find a box of puppies along the road, I’m bringing ’em home!” I told him.

“No, you’re not!” he warned.

“Yes, I am!” I warned back.

I might not actively seek another dog but if I happen across one, I’m getting it.

My cousin Steph got a Blue Heeler, an Australian Cattle Dog, and I showed Mike the pictures because I know he used to have one.

“Now there’s a good dog!” he said. “You can get one of those.”

My heart soared then crashed on the rocks of defeat when I saw how much they went for. “I think I’d be just as happy with a mutt.” There are too many other things we could spend twelve hundred dollars on.

After petting Sissy and Belle through the cage for a while, I walked around to take pictures. I thought she had a Dogwood in bloom but it wasn’t, it’s a Magnolia tree and it smelled so pretty.

The ground was covered with a carpet of these little flowers. I picked one and asked Paula if she knew what it was.

“A weed,” she guessed and laughed.

 It’s a Fig Buttercup. All parts of the plant are poisonous if ingested. It’s considered invasive because it’s one of the first buttercups to come up in the spring and it crowds out the native buttercups.

In folk medicine it’s been used to treat piles, aka hemorrhoids, and hence has another name, Pilewort. Supposedly the knobby tubers resembled piles so they thought that meant it was good to treat piles.

After petting dogs and taking flower pictures, I’d barely settled in the car to read my book when Mike was done, looking all pretty in his new haircut.

          Mike pulled over across from where the truck lay dying in the woods and I walked over. It wasn’t a bad walk; I followed the remnants of an old road.

          My phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and it was Mike. “Hello,” I said nicely instead of answering with “What?”

          “What’s that over there?” he asked.

          “Where?”

          “Off to the right. It looks like an old foundation.” I’d only had eyes for the old Ford and didn’t see anything else. Mike guided me to it and when I got close, it didn’t look like an old foundation. They look like steel beams.   

  

         Then I saw there was old pieces of equipment sitting around.

          As I walked around, I spotted a pile of fallen boards. An old barn? I wondered.

          A dog barked. A man whistled. I knew I was trespassing on unposted land and even though I mean no harm and wouldn’t damage anything or take anything, they couldn’t know that. I expected to be yelled at and so I turned around and headed back to the where Mike waited for me.

          “That was pretty cool! I’d love to have those old steel wheels. I wonder who owns it.” I could never get them but that wouldn’t stop me from dreaming.

          “Chuck Welles owns the other side of the road, maybe he owns this side too.”

          >>>*<<< 

At home, the pussy willows are growing. Mike and I had gone for a golf cart ride and he stopped for me to take this picture.

At the pond, there was something white floating. “What’s that?” I asked because I couldn’t quite make it out.

Mike didn’t know but we both knew as we got closer. I think it’s a Wood Duck. How does a duck end belly up in my pond?

Our pond was also the courtship site for this gobbler who was strutting his stuff to impress two females. 

>>>*<<<

          Someone dumped two tires right on our bridge! Why do people come on my road and dump their garbage!

          But while I’m talking about garbage dumped on our roadside, let me say that Mike stopped and let me pick up a few drink cans. Then I made this. 

          It’s supposed to be a wind spinner but hanging from a line like it does, the wind ends up just blowing it around and it doesn’t do much spinning. Now I’ve got to make another one and see if hanging it from something solid would help or if maybe making the vanes wider would let it catch the wind better.

          My crafting didn’t stop there this week! I worked to revamp one of my early tin flowers. This time I used a glue called E6000 and hot glue to hold it till the E6000 dried. I bent one edge of the vanes with the holes along the top and it actually spins pretty well — and hasn’t come apart yet. I may be on to something here.

I made this super simple four-vaned pinwheel this week too. I had intended to clip the sharp points from corner I pull in to the center and without thinking I’d nipped all the corners! Oh well. Next time I’ll know better. It spins really well! 

I made this for Miss Rosie. She has a birthday coming up but I gave it to her early so she could enjoy it longer. Don’t tell her but I’ll probably make her one or two more before her birthday and we’ll call them birthday gifts too. Or regular gifts. I don’t care.

I put it in my yard to watch it spin but it doesn’t. Maybe because I cupped the vanes instead of bending just one edge?

          I wasn’t going to worry about it because even if it doesn’t spin, it’s still a pretty flower — at least I hoped Miss Rosie would think so. The best way to tell is to watch her face when she first sees it.

          “OH!” she cries. I think she likes it!

          Lamar went for a mallet and planted it in the middle of the daffies. That way he doesn’t have to mow around it — not that he ever complains about stuff like that.

          I sure am glad Miss Rosie likes the things I make!

          What can I do to make it spin? was rattling around in my head. I’m thinking if I make the last vane in the stack more leaf-like in shape I could twist it and maybe it would catch the wind better. And I used three layers of tin on Miss Rosie’s flower, I wondered if I could grommet four together.

          I made’em and took‘em out in the yard to spray paint a base coat. I can see where I painted the grass when I did Miss Rosie’s. Mike can be persnickety about the grass sometimes, I wonder if he’ll be upset about that. I can use cardboard, I think and decide I’d better ask before I did any more painting. But Mike didn’t care so we’re good.

          Once the base was dry, I added detail. 

          As I stood there painting on dots, lines, and circles, I look up and note that Tiger is sitting there watching me. He’s probably wondering what’s wrong with me since I’m grinning like an idiot.

          Plain and simple, I’m happy. Half my joy comes from making things, three-eighths is in giving them away to someone who would love it, and the other eighth? That’s the joy I get from keeping it for myself. 

          “Peg, your center holes look kinda sloppy,” you point out.

          I know, right! I don’t have any way of punching a center hole. The tool that came with the grommets won’t punch metal so I used a nailset to start a hole, pounded a big lag bolt through that, then cut away as much of the flared metal as I could and beat the rest into submission. But don’t worry, with the grommet and a cap in place you won’t see it anyhow.

          Something else you won’t see is the second, green piece. The first frilly yellow one overwhelms it. But with a grommet, it ain’t comin’ apart.

          I put it in the yard and it didn’t spin. I was disappointed but now I have a reason to make another one. This time I’m thinking of using an aluminum vane to be the wind catcher and — can I grommet five?

“4533333,llllllllllll.” Tiger was just adding his two cents worth here and in case you can’t read cat, it says, “Can I have a treat, please?” He’s always very polite like that. I gave him one. I keep them in the bottom drawer of my desk so when he wants one, he gets in front of my face and in this case, my keyboard was in front of me and he stood on it.  

          Since I was spray painting, I decided to spray paint some of the spinners that I’d left plain. They weren’t intended to be gifts when I made them, only prototypes, so I’d skipped the frou-frou. But I like them better with color and now my yard looks like this!

          “Peg, aren’t those the Kipps?” you ask.

          It is! This is our very first post-walk visit of the year!

          As we sat on the patio and chatted, I asked about the piece of property that the old truck sat on.

          “There used to be a mill that sat there,” Miss Rosie said. “My father quit school and got a job there. There were twelve kids in that family.”

          Lamar took over the story. “He told me he was eleven when he went to work there and one day the inspector came in and said he couldn’t work there, he was too young. So, they fired him and he went someplace else and got a job.”

          Things were a lot different in ’30s.

           Saturday afternoon I went to make another cup of coffee and glanced out the window. All of the spinners were spinning! I grabbed my camera and went to take a video clip but the wind had stopped. I retrieved my coffee and enjoyed some patio time as I set my camera up on a tripod and waited for the wind to tickle all of them.

          A dozen clips later I still hadn’t caught them all spinning at the same time. Is it wind direction or force? I wondered but I’ll never figure it out. I can’t put the short video in my letter but I’m gonna put it in the blog. 

        Of all the clips I took I like this one because Tiger comes trotting up with a mouse in his mouth. I tried to get him to turn loose of a bird once. He growled at me and clamped his jaws down harder. Since then he growls and won’t let me close to his kill. I had to sit there and listen as he crunched bones and ate the whole thing. In the wee hours of the next morning, he left me a present. All the undigestible parts. At least he didn’t puke on the bed this time, I count my blessings. After he ate the bird he started heaving in the wee hours of the morning and I didn’t kick him off the bed quick enough and had to clean up feathers and other yuck.

You may notice that amongst the common, ordinary, and homemade spinners is one very fancy-schmancy one. Remember when Mike said it’s easier to buy one? Well, he bought me one. As an Easter gift but it didn’t arrive until the day after Easter. This spinner has a solar light in the middle that changes color and lasts for eight hours after the sun goes down.

And it’s very special to me.

In all the years that we’ve been together I don’t think Mike has EVER bought me a gift that I didn’t ask for or pick out for myself. This is a first, my dears, and an event to be noted for all of history.

>>>*<<< 

I learned something I didn’t know.

Spray painting Miss Rosie’s birthday flower was the first time I’d used my spray paints since last summer.

After you use spray paint you’re supposed to tip the can upside down and spray it for a few seconds to clear the nozzle. Well, the orange one wouldn’t clear. It just kept spraying paint.

“Take the nozzle off and soak it in cleaner,” Mike advised.

“Can I use turpentine,” I asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

I found a little plastic cup, put the nozzle in and enough turpentine to cover it. Then I let it soak. Overnight. Outside on the patio table. The next morning when I picked up the cup it was half dissolved on the table. I didn’t know turpentine would dissolve plastic and Mike didn’t know it either. Keep in mind that I keep a small plastic bottle of the stuff in cabinet for quick access for cuts and it’s been there for years. So, I guess it just depends on the kind of plastic it is.

I learned something else too. When you set your ear bud down next to a grommet, make sure you pick up the right one before you stick it in your ear!

>>>*<<<

Trish, my beautiful West Virginia friend, told me in a morning love note that Wendy’s has brought back their five-dollar Biggie Bag and she was having that for lunch when she went shopping later in the day.

“What’s that?” I asked. Wendy’s is not a fast-food joint that we frequent — and for good reason too, which I won’t go into now.

“It’s a double stack bacon cheeseburger, junior fries, four nuggets, and small drink for five dollars.”

I passed this bit of information on to my husband.

Well, wouldn’t you know it that we had to make a trip to Wysox. Mike had a tractor tire that wouldn’t hold air. And wouldn’t you know that Wysox has a Wendy’s.

“Let’s try one of those Biggie Bags,” he suggested.

And I bet you thought there wouldn’t be any road pictures!

Well, there aren’t many because we make this trip often but here’s one.

And here’s another. We’d gotten behind this lumber truck. “I can smell the trees,” Mike said.

When I first caught a whiff of it, I thought I was smelling the kill plant, but knew we weren’t anywhere close to that so I shrugged it off. I never for a second thought I was smelling the trees. I guess dead smells like dead to me.

We dropped the tire off and went for lunch. This is what Wendy’s Biggie Bag looks like and since we haven’t had soda pop in many, many years, we got milk for our drink.

“Peg, I only see two chicken nuggets,” you say.

I know, right! There’s actually three in there and I’d already eaten one before I thought to take its picture.

“How was it?” you wanna know.

It was good and too much. I took most of the fries home for the critters.

>>>*<<<

And this week, for the first time, I made my way down the bank to the section of creek that we own. I couldn’t get the whole way down, but this summer I’m going to chop some steps into the hillside so I can.

Mike waited at the top for me in case I got in trouble.

 Let’s call this one done!