Montana Woman Attacked by Bear

Did you hear about the woman in Montana who was attacked by a bear at her own back door? She had let her three dogs out in the evening and heard a commotion in the yard. She didn't realize that a bear was at the edge of her yard eating apples from her tree but two of her three dogs caught on and made a run for it. The third dog was old and slow and he headed for the house and so did the bear. She realized the bear was attacking her dog so she screamed. Then the bear shifted his attention to her. She was half outside the door when the bear caught her. She landed a good kick to the bear's nose but he swiped at her leg, tearing her blue jeans and scratching her leg. Luckily, she was able to back into her kitchen.

Now, here is the part of the story that makes her my Hero. She reached around on her kitchen counter for a weapon and found a large zucchini which she threw at the advancing bear. (At this point in the story daughter Sarah shouts 'en gourd!'which isn't horticulturaly correct but funny anyway) The vegetable hit the bear squarely on the head and he retreated back out into the night. Now, you may wonder why I find that heroic. If you had ever planted even one zucchini plant you'd know that any new use for the fruit is reason for rejoicing, especially those great big ones.

This story has a happy ending. The dog is going to be okay, the woman has only minor injuries and a zucchini has been found to be useful as a weapon. If I had my way this would be one of those tales passed from father to son or mother to daughter, down through time.

The half bushel of vegetables in my picture has a couple of zucchini that could qualify as weapons. Stand back, I am armed.

Night-Blooming Cereus

It is difficult to go back to everyday pursuits after something really bad has happened. Every where we look life goes on and we should be thankful that everyone isn't in the state we are but still we have a vague feeling of resentment. Jeff is still in the hospital and his survival is not a sure thing, although every day that passes without a major crisis is a good day.

Remember the song that says "Don't they know, it's the end of the world?" It goes on to say, "since you don't love me anymore" but the feeling of something lost is close even though our trouble isn't a lost love.

A couple of weeks ago one of the cactus,a night-blooming cereus, bloomed. The blossom opens to its fullest during the passing of one single night so when Bob, always the night owl, saw it in bloom he brought it and a flashlight into the bedroom. Usually a middle of the night awakening isn't good but in this case it was wonderful. The delicate petals glowed under the soft light of the flashlight and at least then I was glad the world has continued to turn.

The blossom lasted in to the next morning and I was able to get these pictures.

A setback tody. Jeff had to have surgery to release pressure in his brain. We are all hoping and praying for the best.

Jeff Dodge is in Neuro-Intensive Care

Our nephew, Jeff Dodge, is in the hospital in the neuro-intensive care unit with three skull fractures. He was struck by a pick up truck while walking at about 2AM on July 27th. He is in a medically induced coma and his temperature is being kept low in order to keep brain swelling down. Lowering his body temperature brings with it the risk of infection since the body uses fever to kill off bugs. The infection expert - there is a specialist for everything - is trying to identify a lung bug they discovered in order to target it with the correct drug. In the meantime he is on a broad spectrum antibiotic. His brain pressure is being monitored closely and drugs administered in a complicated dance to preserve precious brain tissue. The first 72 hours are critical after this kind of injury.

Jeff, who's twenty-three years old, is maybe the nicest of our nephews. (sorry everyone else, you are all pretty nice, too) When he started to work at Menard's he was a salesman and he said to me, "Aunt Chari, I am a bad salesman. I tell them 'Don't buy that, it is kind of junky'" He shrugged and we laughed. Menard's didn't hold that against him, it seems, since they promoted him to management.

Jeff's dad, Jim, worked as a nurse in the very unit Jeff is being treated and his step-mom Denise is currently a nurse there, so they know all the scary details of an injury like this. It must be like their worst nightmare come to life.

Jeff's mom, Ruth and step-dad Pat, are living a nightmare, too. NOT knowing all the details is hard, too, and it doesn't help when doctors disagree and when no one can tell you what is likely to happen.

The hospital sets aside a 'crisis room' for families of patients and ours has been filled with people every time we go. Jeff's siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, extended family, old friends of the family, and of course, Jeff's friends come and go. The hours pass slowly. Down the hall, Jeff is tethered to an array of machines that would seem right at home in a science fiction movie. He looks as if he is just asleep and Bob, Sarah and I all felt he is in there, waiting to wake up.

Could there be anything worse to add to this? Yes. Jeff was intentionally run down by a drunk who'd been at the pub where Jeff and two friends were playing pool. It was near closing time when the drunk, twenty-three year old Texan Brandon Goodwin, and a friend came in. The barmaid refused to serve him and Jeff's friends eventually joined her in telling the guy to leave. Jeff himself never said anything but stood with them. As the guy left he said he would kill the bartender and Jeff and friends.

Jeff and his friends decided to walk home. Jeff had only one beer - this fact has been documented with a blood alcohol test at the hospital - but home for them was close so they didn't drive. The drunk appeared in a borrowed pick up truck and made two passes at them, which they avoided. One of them called 911 but before the police responded the drunk returned, jumped a curb, went over a group of bushes and a broad grassy area and plowed into Jeff. One of his friends was hit in the leg and has very minor injuries, the other escaped unharmed. Jeff flew up and when he came down the others saw his head bounce off the pavement. He rolled over, tried to get up a couple of times, then was quiet.

The drunk zoomed off but was quickly arrested at an after hours joint. He is being held on $500,000.00 bond. The charges, so far, are attempted murder and driving a vehicle while intoxicated, causing injury. We think, and this may happen, he should be charged with three counts of attempted murder.

We are mired in impotent emotions. Sorrow at Jeff's injuries and all the unknowns they bring, sympathy for those closest to him, fear and worry for what the future may bring and then, a nice topping of rage directed at someone we have never met.

Adjectives Gone Wild

A local credit union just changed its name. It used to be known as Communications Family Credit Union now it is Wildfire Credit Union. WILDFIRE? Is that a name that inspires confidence? Do I want to put my money where they are advertising wildfires? Who though that name was good idea?

I do know a little about that credit union because many of my fellow postal employees were members. The credit union was known for being very liberal with the loan money in sharp contrast to the Saginaw Federal Postal Credit Union that was stingier. Maybe wildfires were a problem even then so they needed to get the money out of the building to save it...

What about Chrysler's Crossfire? If your engine is cross firing that is when the cylinders are firing in the wrong order, isn't it? And anyone who's ever seen a cop show knows it's dangerous to get caught in the crossfire. The word is also used to describe a verbal battle. Why would we want to buy and then drive something associated with all that trouble?

One day while we were in Heritage Natural Foods I was expounding on this subject and store owner Paul mentioned he's puzzled by the use of the word 'extreme' in business names. Names like 'Extreme Painting" and 'Extreme Rug Cleaner.' Just how much paint would it take to be extreme? I wonder if they leave any nap on a rug that's been through the extreme cleaning process.

I used to rent lock boxes to business customers at the post office and over the years I noticed that if the word 'reliable' was in the name of a business they were anything but. Their checks bounced, they never picked up their mail or they neglected to pay the rent for the box, then complained loudly when it was closed. I should have been given a bonus for refraining from hooting when I helped those 'reliable' folk open a box. I will admit I was unable to suppress a smirk but I never vocalized.

Language is changing all the time and I guess I have to accept new usages but I don't have to like it.

Eat Wire, Bunnies!

Last time, I promised to tell you about Bob's plan to foil the bunny population. You may have thought he would resort to violent methods of extermination but think again. Only one animal can be dispatched at a time and one has to catch the offender red handed, and anyway, it is illegal to do so in the city. Bob found a saner, more mature option.

The Problem:
Butch, the outside cat whose name is only one letter different than his grumpy sounding vocalizations, had been missing for a couple of weeks and in that time the rabbits became bold and confident. Early in the morning, while the dew was still on the veg, they feasted on whole plants. The last victims were two of the three young, tender black locust tree seedlings. Only one was left to give mute testimony to the carnage.

The Solution:
As luck would have it, about this time Bob went to old friend Dianne's house to fix a table leg and while there mentioned he needed to buy some rabbit wire. Dianne produced a roll of used wire she was going to put out for the trash and ta da! the material for the bunny foiling cages was at hand. Not that it was an easy fix. The wire was lumpy and twisted and had to be tamed back into shape but then it was ready for its new life.

Each cage is a work of art, I think. Bob measured the wire using pi to determine how long each strip of wire needed to be to mate up with the round tops he cut. That may be the first practical use of pi I've witnessed first hand. Okay, so I am an English type, not a math type. It is genetic, I think. Daughter Sarah once asked her math instructor if she could write a little story about each problem rather than solving the problem... but I digress.

Using a needle nosed pliers, Bob fastened each section of the cage by twisting the wire around the adjoining wire until, after what seemed to me a gazillion junctions the cages were complete. They are big enough to get the plants through that irresistible to rabbit phase and should last for years.

And you thought this post was going to involve some violence.

Vegetable Gardens and the Joys of Manure

We have a big pile of manure in our yard and I am so happy. It is well rotted horse manure Bob and friend Dave hauled from a horse farm a few miles away. Bob is almost done spading, spreading manure and planting our main vegetable garden and what a job that was. The manure is wonderful stuff but it added hours to the job. Bob would spade a row, push the wheelbarrow to our other yard, load it with manure, push the barrow back, and unload it into the furrow all along the spaded row and then repeat the whole process. It should be good for Bob, if it doesn't kill him.

If the weather cooperates, we will have three lettuces,(Black Seeded Simpson, oakleaf, and arugula) four kinds of sweet peppers, three kinds of hot peppers, cucumbers, carrots, zucchini, radishes, and four kinds of tomatoes. We have some leftover from last season Kentucky Wonder climbing green beans and those will be planted last. We have found that when they are planted early in the season they develop rot and have to be replanted so it makes sense to leave them until last. We also will grow a few marigolds and zinnias just for fun.

A row of four varieties of Castor beans, which can grow up to 15 feet tall, will serve several purposes. Their large, fleshy leaves and spiky seed pods give the garden an exotic feeling while screening out the neighbor's back yard in the summer. Then, when they have died, the stumps will form the base for next year's bean trellis. How's that for a useful plant?

My mom discovered a source for rare and unusual seeds. The address is J.L. Hudson, Seedsman P.O. Box 337 La Honda, California 94020, or their website jlhudsonseeds.net Their catalog is a black and white booklet that is chock full of information about each plant. Their prices are reasonable and delivery is quick. Bob ordered their Castor beans and a packet of black locust tree seeds.

The tree seedlings were doing very well until some fiendish son of a devil ate every last trace of them. Probably a bunny.

I'll post Bob's solution to the bunny problem next time.