How to Make Fear of Bears, etc. Disappear!

The day before, there had been a bear in our yard. In fact, Husband was in the woods, just beyond the house with Bonnie, our dog. The bear was between Husband and the house. Now, this was not Smokey Bear, or Yogi Bear or any of the famous ones you were taught to love as a child. This was a bear, that if in a foul mood, can slice your head off with one fell swoop of his claws. Which are four feet long. At least.

Husband was standing on a slight rise, and Bonnie was not, so she didn't see the bear and the bear didn't see her. No wind was stirring, so nobody smelled anybody else, either. 

Husband decided to do the manly thing, so he raised his arms above his head, spread his legs and hollered really loud. The bear looked at him, and slowly moved on down toward the creek.

A few days before that, I was sitting at the kitchen table and saw a coyote watching our house. This is creepy.  Give me the bear. The coyote wanted to come in the yard, but he'd stare at the house, move on down in the woods a little, and start to come in the yard again. Then he'd stare at the house. He finally moved on down toward the creek, too.

As you can imagine, this has caused some caution to raise its head as I have come to and from the studio, or to the car or even out on the front porch.

However; I got over that fear, and here's how:

I was in the studio, editing my upcoming (I hope) book. I was stretching my arms over my head and ran my fingers through my hair. On the back of my head in all my hair, was something that was not a part of me, but did not remove itself.

I hightailed it back to the house with  nary a thought of bear or coyote. In fact, they're lucky they didn't get in my way. I hollered at Husband as I came through the door, "I've got a tick in my head, come get it off!"

That sucker had just attached itself, it  hadn't drawn blood yet. 

And it never will.

Anyway, since then, we've been without electricity for 38 hours and now our water is not working. We've called for help, because Husband and I have done everything we know to do. 

I reckon it ain't meant for us to bathe ever again.

Just remember that if you see us in town.

Of Lightning Strikes, Kidney Stones and Yankee Cousin

It's always an adventure when Yankee Cousin comes to visit each summer, and well it should be. But...

Not all adventures are Yippee and Wowzee and Oh boy! kind of adventures.

Firstly, we had to be at the Atlanta Airport before the crack of dawn. Well, okay, before 9:00 a.m. Fortunately, it was Saturday, so traffic wasn't like being in you-know-where. (Rush hour.)

Back at home with full Cracker Barrel bellies, we commenced to do nothing. Suddenly a severe thunderstorm was upon us and BAM! No electricity. For 6 hours.  We'd just fired up our battery operated lanterns for the night when power was restored. We appreciated the air conditioning coming back on.

The  next evening, BAM! No electricity. Yankee Cousin wailed (she did, she really did). Husband said, "Welcome to living in the mountains."

Lighting struck our modem, too. Just for extra kicks and giggles. 

I will say the fellas came early Monday morning to replace our modem. And the power was restored this time in under an hour.

Mid-week I started painin' in my, um, everything, as a kidney stone is wont to do. This went on for a day or two, then I passed that sucker but a UTI lingered. 

I told Yankee Cousin she must think  I'm the biggest hypochondriac in the whole world, because every time she's here, I have some weird physical ailment strike. 

She said she'd never, ever, never think that! (Me thinkest thou protesteth too much)

But worse, worse than all the above (well, nearly, it's hard to top a kidney stone, can I hear an amen) was I lost my brand new unopened pill bottle of hormone stuff that prevents hot flashes.

I have torn up the car, the pantry, my dresser drawers, etc. to no avail. The only thing I can figure is they somehow fell in the trash in the pantry. (whimpers)

I called the doc, and the nurse said that since hormone thieves aren't rampant, she'd agree to a refill early. 

Ya'll just don't know what a close call you had.