A Bear Market - Part 3

We still had another night to go. We knew they'd be back. And they were. This time we would be waiting for them. So would Bear Bait.

We slept restlessly but the kids slept great. They were a little miffed when they woke up and realized what had happened and no one woke them. JoJo was a little miffed, too. And a lot older. But the kids had fun checking out the mess and JoJo hit pay dirt eating what the bears had left behind.

We saved what food we could. They had left two packages of Little Debbie Snack Cakes completely untouched. That should tell you something about Little Debbie. Grizzly was happy. He had breakfast. But we had to make a grocery run. We found enough left to snack around on for the kids and I but by lunchtime, everyone wanted real food. We decided to hit the dining establishment at Huntington Lake before we headed to town.

We drug ourselves into the Lakeshore Lodge restaurant looking like we'd just stepped off the set of "Deliverance." I think the Wild Man was even missing some teeth at the time. And Hannah Bo and I have exceptional hair. Get it dirty, add a little moisture and you can see the family resemblance between us and Albert Einstein who gave "big hair" a whole new meaning. We had been camping for six days with only baby wipes for pretend baths. We beat our clothes and dusted off but the fact of the matter was, we were disgusting.

We just didn't care.

We chatted up the waitress who tried to serve us from as far away as her arm would let her. We ate heartily and tipped well. It was the least we could do. And as I've been known to say, I always try to do the least I can do.

Our full bellies gave us renewed energy and we began to plot and plan for the evening events we knew were coming. We stopped by the campground offices which were down the road and across a main bridge. We found out there had been another bear incident. A guy had left dog food in his truck and mama bear bashed the window in and sent the kids after the goods. It made us glad we had forgotten to roll up the window. At least it wasn't broken. But, now that they knew the food was inside, they wouldn't let a window stop them. The ranger said to expect them. Maybe smart people would have gone home at this point but we have never been mistaken for smart people. Besides, we wanted to squeeze the life out of our last day. We weren't about to hand it over to a bear or three.

We grabbed enough grub to get us through another night, including marshmallows, hot chocolate, and coffee. Our plan included sitting around the campfire long enough to let them head for the car and then we would chase them off. If we had to sit up half the night in the cold, we at least wanted to be fortified with caffeine and sugar.

We convinced the Wild Man he had to go to bed by ten. He was eight at the time so his droopy eyelids helped seal the deal, and Lassie was more than willing to climb to the bottom of his sleeping bag and keep his feet company. But Hannah Bo was determined to make it all night. She had always been a night owl and this was worth staying up for. Grizzly had a plan and excitement was in the air.

Grizzly frequently has plans.

There was another camping trip, this one out in the wilderness of the National Forest, with no one around for miles. We were getting overrun by mice. We didn't know it until a few days later but someone had dumped some garbage near our site weeks earlier. It had become a mouse haven. We found HB's purple knitted gloves with the fingers chewed out. When we opened the engine compartment of the van, we found a little purple glove nest on top of the battery. The mice ran up and down our tent trailer in the night. The pitter-patter of little feet kept us up and aggravated. Grizzly was done.

He sat outside the next night with his shotgun in one hand and his night vision monocular in the other. Meanwhile, I laid on the bed with a three-year-old Wild Man, sound asleep, and a very excited Hannah Bo wearing her dad's gun muffs clamped on to her head. He would yell, "Ready?" and I, in my gun muffs with my hands pressed over Wild Man's ears, would yell back, "Go Ahead!" and we'd hear the roar of the shotgun's report. This happened about six times. Grizzly would watch for movement through the monocular and then blast away at the mice. It worked...uh...great.

The next morning it was evident that the world was now safe from folding chairs. They were shot to heck and were the only thing he hit. The mice rebuilt the nest on the battery the next day.

So we were primed, once again, to take on our latest forest nemesis. Grizzly would be armed in case things went terribly south but there would be no shooting. We just wanted to keep them from destroying our car and show them they couldn't bully their way in everywhere and damage property. It seemed like a humanitarian mission. We had pots and pans and noise makers. We would honk the horn and scream and yell.

Wild Man drifted off to sleep and the three of us hunkered down around the fire. The campground grew dark and quiet. It wasn't well populated because it was mid-week and off-season. A few fires could be seen in the distance but they slowly flickered out. Our conversations grew fewer and more hushed as the night crawled slowly into the wee morning hours. No signs. No sounds. Grizzly grew restless. He felt eyes boring into him but couldn't see anything. He decided to scout the perimeter and weave in and out of the trees. HB wanted to stretch and go with him. They grabbed the night vision monocular, with JoJo at their heel, and headed out.

I wasn't about to leave my son or the car so, with my .38 snuggled deep in my pocket, I pulled my parka in tighter, my hood up farther, and tucked down into my chair (one without shotgun pellet holes). And I waited. All that could be heard was the occasional pop or crackle of the campfire. At times I would hear or see my three bear hunters working their way through the trees. Eventually they would come back, wait for a bit, and then head out again. Grizzly was getting frustrated. There was just no sign. He absolutely knew the minute we hit the sack they would be at the van. I mentioned that mama could have easily treed herself and the babies and be watching them every time they passed underneath, and they would never know. That gave him a new mission: scouting out trees with the flashlight while he hunted.

The hours drug on and 5:00a.m. approached. We thought maybe we would see daylight before we turned in. Grizzly decided to make one last trip through the forest. Hannah Bo and JoJo set out with him. With my chin resting on my chest I fought sleep. My bones had turned to columns of ice and I wasn't sure I could move if the need presented itself. I found out I could.

Off in the far distance I saw the sweep of the flashlight and knew the posse was headed back for camp. At the same moment I noted a sound right behind my chair. My eyes shot open wide and the hair on my neck stood up. I froze. Was that just a little animal making its way through the underbrush? Don't panic. Then came a very heavy footfall an arms length from me. I screamed and jumped from my chair. By that time, Grizzly was within shouting distance up the road in front of me.

"It's okay!" he yelled. "It's just us!"

"No it's not!" I cried out.

Thunderous paws ran down the hill behind me as I turned to watch.

"She was right here! Right behind my chair!" I shrieked. And she vanished into the forest depths.

The breeze had been blowing gently toward me and she hadn't caught my scent. I was downwind. My dark green parka had blended in perfectly with the night. I have no doubt she never saw me. But the jig was up. We scared each other to death, equally.

Dawn was a short time away and we all crawled into our sleeping bags, exhausted. We were confident she wouldn't be back with so little darkness left. It would be long enough to give us a few hours of sleep. We drifted off finally, warm, snuggly, and dim-wittedly victorious.

I have no doubt there is a bear out there right now, with a blog, telling all her readers about how she almost ate a woman once instead of a Ding Dong.......because the description applied so perfectly to both.

Copyright 2009

Are You Following Me?

This is another shameless bid to encourage you to sign up to follow. The last attempt at begging was so successful I'm only 8 followers away from the contest for two $50 gift certificates to Amazon.com. (A BIG thank you to all of you who have already signed up!)

It's great to see my maps bringing you all in. Would you consider clicking on that little button above the group of photos on the right and joining our party? We're having a ball out here! Join the ranks! Make your voice heard!

A Bear Market - Part 2

I wasn't prepared for what I saw next.

The whole van was rockin' like a frat house on Friday night.

Two cubs were inside while the mama stood on her hind legs, face pressed to the window pointing out the items she wanted them to throw out to her. They had entered through the driver's side window but she was too big and fat to fit. I feel her pain. But you can never be too fat if you're a bear. They don't spend anytime feeling badly about themselves because they don't fit in windows. In fact, they do this thing called "hyper feeding." It happens as winter is coming on and they will eat as many as 20,000 calories a day in preparation for hybernation. I think I did that last time I went to Baskin Robbins. I don't think I hybernated but I'm pretty sure I lapsed into a coma for a few days.

Now, you may wonder, "Why in the world did you two idiot dingbats leave the window open on your car?" And you would be perfectly right in your succint inquiry. That's why I hang out with you.

Here's how that happened. Grizzly went to bed first, with the kids. He figured I'd make sure everything was secure for the night, being the mom and all. I was staying up for a bit to sit by the fire with the dogs and have quiet time. I figured he, being the man and all, would secure our perimeters before turning in. So naturally, neither one of us did anything. We frequently work well together like this.

We had heard there were some bears around and half the sites had lock boxes. Ours didn't. We were told to keep food out of sight. Not a problem. We always kept everything in camping boxes anyway. Just so you know for your own personal information: a camping container to a bear is like gift wrapping a box of See's candy. It just heightens the thrill anticipating the creamy center.

As we looked out the tent we could see the bears having a heydey in the van. One of the cubs had thrown a bottle of cooking oil out to mom and she had ripped off the the top half and poured its greasy goodness down her throat, over her face, and onto her paws. She then pressed that same big fat face up against the windows of the van, along with plate-sized paws, and left lovely pressed-art pictures of herself.

The ground was littered with crackers, chips, pop tarts, flour, butter, pancake mix, and syrup. All of the items were in various states of having been demolished or devoured. I must interject that we do not normally keep all this c-rap around our home and I am an organic cook most of the time. However, camping requires copious amounts of Death Food in Boxes. (Sounds like a good name for a band.)

Grizzly ran out into the freezing night yelling and clanging pot lids. Of course the guns could not be fired. This is California. Guns are just for looks in a campground. You can't shoot bears or discharge a weapon. If we had left the guns in the car then the bears could have legally shot us, sat in our chairs, smoked a cigarette (not that we had any but they travel with them), and slammed back a beer to wash down the Ding Dongs.

But we hadn't left the guns in the car so the master mind of the heist ditched the babies and took off into the trees. The cubs scrambled around inside the van hunting their escape hatch, the window, and then bailed out as fast as their bloated bodies would carry them. The dogs were now awake. Reluctantly. I know I keep saying dogs and have only mentioned JoJo. Our other dog du jour was Lassie. Now Lassie was a four pound chihuahua who never really belonged with our family. My persuasive aunt had talked us into keeping this walking snack food but chihuahuas are not exactly your great-outdoors camping types. She spent most of her time in the mountains shaking and praying for death to overtake her. (We have since rehomed her with my aunt where she is receiving therapy for post traumatic stress disorder.)

With the bears out of sight we lifted the back hatch and surveyed the damage. It looked like a bomb had gone off in a Walmart. Camping boxes were ripped in half (what the heck? All they had to do was lift the lid, for Pete's sake!). Same for the ice-chest. Top removed at the hinges and it wasn't even locked. Bloody meat packages lay with only hints of what they once contained. Flour was everywhere. Bear hair hung from the ceiling. Bear musk hung on the air. Puncture holes decorated the interior and my emergency brake, now flattened out, had reported for its last emergency.

We knew they were watching from the perimeter. It was three a.m. We didn't want our car destroyed. What would YOU do? I know what we did. We swept off a spot on the back seat, rolled up the windows, and called JoJo to lay there and do guard duty until the light of day. She would forever after be known affectionately as "Bear Bait." You've never seen a dog with bigger eyes than one who is about to be left by herself in a car that smells like a bear is sleeping in there with her. I'm not sure we made the right decision. JoJo is positive we didn't. But the car was safe. At least for the rest of that night.

We still had another night to go. We knew they'd be back. And they were. This time we would be waiting for them. So would Bear Bait.

To Be Continued........

Copyright 2009

Man Thwarts Robbers by Stealing Their Car...BUT...

Robbers break into man's home in Bellvue, Washington.

He hears them upstairs, from his basement, and escapes out the door.

Robbers already have his flatscreen tv, wife's jewelry box, and other items staged on the front porch to load in the car.

He sees their minivan, left running for a quick getaway, jumps in and drives to safety while thwarting their efforts.

While driving away he calls 9-1-1 and the operator, after laughing when he tells her, seriously advises him to stop driving their car as he could be charged with theft.

Here are the only options:

a. The 9-1-1 operator is desperately misinformed
b. The law that would make this true was written by someone smoking crack - regularly.
c. The operator is a complete idiot.

Under what circumstances do you find yourself successfully fleeing from perpetrators, saving your own life, foiling a crime-in-progress, and leading the police right to the vehicle used in said crime, yet find yourself on the wrong side of the law? Should he have returned the car to the thieves, apologized, and tied himself up? Maybe for good measure he could have helped them load the car and then beat himself about the head and neck so they wouldn't be injured if THEY did it.

If you should find yourself on the wrong end of a gun, do not try to disarm the bad guy or fight for yourself. That gun beLONGS to him, after all. You don't want to be charged with theft or battery.

This has to be one for the You've GOT to be KIDDING! files. Watch the video here http://www.king5.com/video/.

More bears later today!

And the Award Goes To...Update

Am I the only one who does completely hair-brained things on a daily basis? I fancy myself a halfway intelligent person but I regularly prove that to be untrue. Keeps me humble. I will never suffer from pride issues. My idiocy prevents it.

With that said, I have to add someone to my award list because I would have if I had rubbed my two brain cells together.

Joy at El Mundo de Mamacita has been someone I've followed for quite a while. I love what she stands for and how she tries to make the most of what is given to her and blesses her family. She has a heart of gold and recently even offered to pay for her readers to see the movie "Fireproof" if they couldn't afford it. She feels that strongly about encouraging healthy marriages. And she will teach you how to eat leftovers you would rather throw out. Okay, about that last part.......

And if you haven't had your belly laugh yet today, you HAVE to go over to Tatersmama and check out her most recent post. She says some things about me that should be refuted and even shows an unflattering video of me having a hissy fit. I bet you didn't know that I am actually a flipped-out asian woman but she seems to have the video to prove it. Well, sort of...watch it and you be the judge.

A Bear Market - Part 1

If a bear is in the forest and eats everything in your car, do your dogs hear it?

I'm thinking about that this morning after reading a post at From Single to Married in which she talks about her good watch dog. No one loves their dogs more than I love mine but, the reality is, JoJo is only incensed about people breathing or moving when she's wide awake. When she's asleep, all bets are off.

I once called Jojo to give her a hug goodnight. The rest of the inmates here at the asylum had already bunked down. No Jojo. I called again. Nothing. I searched from room to room and called outside, up and down the street. MIA. I shook the over-sized bed bugs out of their sheets and mounted a posse. I didn't want to panic alone. Flip flops were employed. Car engines started. Frantic hollering commenced. No Jo. In one final moment before complete bedlam prevailed, my son, the Wild Man, threw his covers around looking for his coat. There was Jo, tucked in, eyes rolled back in her head, sound asleep, and oblivious. She lifted heavy lids and peered out just long enough to say, "HeLLO. I was warm. Could you knock it off and put the blanket back?!"

It was just this type of edge-of-your-seat, sound-the-alarm guarding that allowed a mother bear, and her two cubs, to grocery shop in our car one night while we were camping.

I don't know about you but I think most moms sleep with one ear open from the minute the doctor says, "It's a girl! Or a boy!" Dads, on the other hand, tend to only wake up in the middle of the night when you, sleep deprived and weary from nursing the baby, roll over and latch that baby on to HIS chest. If you haven't tried this, you should.

Thus, my now normal sleep state is to hear dust collecting on the furniture. And when you are camping in the black of night, in the middle of the forest, and you hear a "thunk" in your sleep, even though neither of your two watch-less dogs perk up an ear, and your husband snores on in near comatose disregard, you trust your gut.

"Grizzly.....did you hear that?"

Now, I have to tell you that Grizzly may sleep like the dead but the moment there is an opportunity to use flashlights, guns, knives, bazookas, or inter-gallactic missiles, he is awake. Immediately. And armed.

"What'd you hear?!" he instantly interrogated.

"Well, I don't know but I just thought I heard a "thunk" outside, by the car," I stated cautiously as he seared my retinas with his flashlight. Now he was ripping open the zipper on the tent.

"Robynn, stay where you are," he ordered, staring through the door flap. "There are bears in the car." It would seem relevant, at this point, for you to know the dogs still weren't barking and were, in fact, snoring right beside the kids.

Now the statement, "There are bears in the car" is not a sentence I had ever considered forming or hearing. So I had never presupposed my response. I did, however, immediately know it did not include staying where I was. I don't tend to run away from things that scare me anyway; I run toward them because being scared just makes me spitting mad. And I had children to protect. And Cheetos. And Hostess Ding Dongs.

What I wasn't prepared for was what I saw next.......

To Be Continued......

Copyright 2009

And the Award Goes To......

I am so tardy posting my awards I seem ungrateful. Truly, I am not. I am lufetargnu. That's so opposite of ungrateful it's backwards. I'm just a little uncomfortable with awards. I love giving them, especially to the kind of people I hang out with here, but posting them feels more awkward to me.

But here they are.....

I'm still so new out here and just starting my third month orbiting around in cyberspace. Shouldn't I do more time in the trenches? Shouldn't you grill me more? Put me through my paces? Wait to see if I dry up and go away? Hope I go away if I dry up?

Well, I guess not, since you're comin' around an encouraging me all the time. And I can't tell you how much it has meant to me. My life has broadened and deepened because of you all. I have a happier spring in my step and a lighter heart. I like to write...you like to read it....you like to write.....I like to read it......and I think to myself......what a wonderful world! Thank you for embracing me so warmly.

And now.....

I have received these awards from several sources. The Lemonade Stand came from Libby at NeasNuttiness, Katie at Tatersmama, Homestay Mama at Home to the World, Frugal Maven at Hip & Stingy and, quite awhile back, from someone else that, for the life of me, I can't recall. Please forgive my overcrowded, cluttered mind. I put your name somewhere in here and it's probably buried under my mental laundry. I really must neaten things up in here one of these days. That'll teach me to procrastinate.

The "I Love Your Blog" award also came from LIbby and Katie.

Now, I know lots of you have received these awards. But I may give them to you again because I can't help it if I admire your attitude and love your blog. If you have received them before, don't feel obligated to pass them on again. Just know that I couldn't help myself. I'm going to give them together because I don't follow your blog unless I love it so, it would figure they would come as a pair.

1. The Mosquitoes Buzz. I can't even remember how I found her but this is proof that less can be more. She keeps it simple and beautiful. I feel as if we know each other in real life. I go there for honesty and "ahhhh" moments.

2. The Treehouse Chef at Treehouse Kitchen. I count on her to feed us. I just made her pecan pie and would advise you not to because your thighs will never be the same. It was incredible. She is another one who makes me feel all warm and cozy. If her house were any more snuggly and yummy smelling I'd just have to buy a plane ticket and head on over for a retreat. And she could cook for me the whole time. Doesn't that just sound delightful? For me? (Okay, I hear her barring the door right now.)

3. Homestay Mama at Home to the World. I want a mama like her only she's too young to be my mama. She's wise and caring and sacrificing and filled with spiritual wisdom; the best kind. She has a gift of encouragement and uses it on me, frequently. I am better for knowing her. MANY are better for knowing her.

4. Katie at Tatersmama. This woman is incredibly giving, loving, funny, straight-up, deep, and selfless. She is a true "Velveteen Rabbit" and has been made real by having a great deal of her fur rubbed off by life. I am also incredulous for her that she cannot get Crisco, pecans, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and Dr. Pepper in the Land Down Under. They should fix all of this just for her. Australia imported her from California. You would think they would treat her better for all she does there. Katie, I think about coming to visit you and when I do, I always pack my suitcases with these items and have imaginary, but satisfying, fights with Customs.

5. Libby at Neas Nuttiness. Libby was the first to promote me to her friends and send them over when I hardly knew what a "Follower" was. She put up a link to me and made me sound like the next in line for a Pulitzer. She is witty, warm, and always leaves funny or encouraging comments. And she's faithful to her friends out here.......even blogs when she's all drugged up after surgery. YOU go over to her place and see if YOU can make sense of the post about all the plastic pooches. It's okay, Libby. Go back to sleep.

6. Reginia at Tetertots. Reg and I have been hangin' out together for several years. We have the same fire in our bellies. (Her belly is a lot flatter and cuter than mine, though.) We both like to see justice done and dislike bullies. But she's so much sweeter in the way she goes about achieving this. She has finesse. And graciousness. She has also opened her heart and home to a lovely teenage girl and has incorporated her as her own. She wouldn't think that's a big deal. That's how she rolls.

7. Neabear Is anyone sweeter than Linnea? She always leaves the nicest comments and has so much fun with all her buddies. She participates in everything and has a great time with all she does. Her photos make you feel like you're right in her home. I have no doubt her friends and family are blessed by her on a regular basis. And she plays the organ. Who can do THAT anymore?

7a. Frugal Maven at Hip & Stingy. You will love her. She's short (the posts, not her, I mean, I don't really know but short is good, and tall is good, too.....this is irrelevant....I will edit it.....probably not....unlike her I do not often embrace brevity) and to the point, she is just filled with variety. I still haven't embraced the "making your own laundry detergent" thing but I am in awe that she has and does. Lots of good tips and she lives in an old church. Go LOOK!

7b. Linda at Another Piece of the Pie. Linda makes me laugh with her wry humor and practical view of the world. I mean, she bought her husband a toilet seat for Valentine's Day. Need I say more? She's a good cook and shares her recipes, we both drink raw milk, and we homeschool our kids. And both our husbands are in love with their espresso machines. We have "grounds" for a friendship.

7c. Ladybird World Mother. She comes to us from England and if her wit got any sharper and more pointed it would never be allowed on the flight over here. Again, can't remember how I found her but I'm glad I did. She gives me lots of "giggles," as she calls them, and keeps me smiling with her British vernacular. She's an incredibly keen observer of life and mines it to great effect.

7d. Becky at Becky and Her Babies. This woman posts some of the funniest jokes I have ever read, and that's saying something in cyberspace. I get the kids running in here to find out why I am laughing my posterior off. Most of the time I can tell them. She's also a great friend to Libby and I always admire great friends.

7e. High Desert Diva. Oh my. She is my required daily dose of beauty and inspiration. As an interior designer, her colors are vibrant and inspiring. She also passes along beautiful sayings or prose. Very regenerative for the spirit. Haven't gone a day without her since I found her. And she always has interesting "asides" or tidbits. A little something for everyone. She doesn't know it yet so, don't mention it, but when I go through Oregon this summer, I'll be staying with her for a few days. Let the preparations begin.

7f. Gizzards & Calf Fries. She keeps me entertained in pictures and witty brevity. Again, nothing I can achieve but, that's the beauty of it. I love dropping in everyday to see mud and horses and holes in the barn roof. She's a busy gal but always takes the time to post a comment and frequently cracks me up. I follow her around just to read her comments on other posts.

7g. NaomiG at Diaries of the Happy Sanitarium. This is my little family. I mean, they don't REALLY belong to me. I just met them out here. But she is such a good mama and does fun things with the kiddos and well, if I had a kid sister, she would be it. And I would be the auntie who spoiled the girls and sent them home rotten. Just love her down home goodness and always feel better for having dropped by.

7h. Life on a Southern Farm. Just down-home goodness. Simple. Warm. Feel-good photos of all her little farm friends. Miracle Eve the goat who is 2/3rds Farmer John Ham. Sweet fun. Faithful commenter and encourager.

7i. From Single to Married A gentle and tender look at just starting out and planning a family. She likes to ask her readers questions and have them participate. And she even sends private, encouraging emails. But she isn't afraid to talk about those really inconvenient issues of life...like IBS...and she knows where all the best toilets are.

7j. A Cowboy's Wife. She's been out of commission for awhile but I hope she's back at it soon. The woman can write. And she can tell it like it is. And if you don't like it, well, you can get over it. Boy, I LOVE that. She's as real as they come and she hasn't only had a hard row to hoe, she hasn't even had a hoe a lot of the times. I think she may have done a lot of plowing with her bare hands.

8. And finally, On a Quirky Quest with Lady Fi. She is a British ex-pat who is now living happily in Sweden with her husband. I love her for her cooking......(shhhhh, yeah RIGHT)....especially the yogurt with ketchup she had us all try for Valentine's Day. She's a great writer, fun to follow, and a constant source of humor and encouragement.

So, there you have it. I stuck to the rules of only nominating eight. You can see that by the numbers.

Now, for all you award winners who HAVEN'T already done this, here are the rules:

1. Put the logo on your blog or post. 2. Nominate at least 8 blogs which show great attitude and/or gratitude. 3. Link to your nominees within your post. 4. Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog. 5. Share the love and link to this post and to the person from whom you received your award.