Early this morning, I mean early, like around 4 when it’s still black as pitch, I stood out on the front porch in my jammies. Jammies in this case being a euphemism for an old T-shirt and finest kind panties from JC Penny. Standard romantic sleepwear after thirty years of marriage.

I stood out there scaring off THE BEAR.

And why would I be doing that?

Because for sure he’d knocked over the recycle can, a bin nearly as tall and far broader than I. It’d been the sound of crashing bottles and cans that woke me up. Then he moved on to the garbage. We’ve done this drill before. He’d rip open the bags, drag them who knows where, leaving a trail of yucky things I’d have to clean up later in the day. Damn bear. Worse than kids when it comes to making a mess.

So as soon as I heard the recycle go, I was out of bed in a flash. I flipped on the driveway lights, stood on the porch and…well, how does one scare off a bear?

Easy peasy. If the sudden glare of the lights and the sight of me in my Penneys panties wasn’t enough for Mr. B, I clapped my hands. Five sharp claps.

He answered through the darkness, a few gutteral grunts.

I clapped again. He grunted again.

And then I went back to bed. Because, really, what else could I do? I rolled in beside Mr. Spouse and told him all about my adventures. He grabbed the blanket, rolled over the other way, muttered something about bears. And then he snored.

But in his own way, I’m sure he was quite impressed.

And after breakfast I restocked the recycle bin, located the remains of the garbage about fifty feet from the scene of the crime, put on some gloves and cleaned up the mess left by Ursus Americanus. And I do hope he enjoyed the turkey burger, the one that spent a couple hours ripening in a hot car on a hot day before finding its way to the trash.

Now, to the age old question, does a bear chit in the woods, the answer is well, I’m sure the one who ate nearly ten pounds of pony psyllium does.

But that was another bear. Another adventure.

And now I’m off to Studio Grande to design my new business cards, paint and have a most productive arty life kind of day.

Have a great weekend! And if you didn’t spend the morning cleaning up someone else’s mess, dearest sweetums, then consider yourself ahead of the game.