Bear Hunting

We've had a wild visitor lately...A bear. A real bear. A 250 pound black bear who enjoys the scraps in my trash can more than my kids enjoy the real meal. This bear visited us the first time three weeks ago, and then has been coming nightly the past week. A rational bear-fearing person might think, "If I put my trash away in the garage then the bear won't come to my house." A true blue manly man would contest, "If I leave the trash out and use a baby monitor to monitor any activity, I might get to see this bear!" This gun-toting-independent would then wish he had an airedale to send out after the bear (once spotted), in hopes of getting him treed. And only a true blue redneck would say, "Well if this bear has been caught twice before then this is a third strike and they'll have to put him down...maybe they'll let me have the pelt!"
It was a combination of the three - manly man, independent, redneck, who diligently stalked the Game and Fish Office's phone lines until he was able to convince a ranger to bring a trap out to our home and set it up on our side yard. Honestly, my first thought when Rus said we'd have a bear trap in our yard was "Crap. One of my kids is going to trip that trap and die." But luckily this trap is actually a cage on a small trailer, and it is tripped when the bear fully enters it and steps on a metal plate, thus releasing a pin to slam the rear door and trap him in. (Phew. At least my kids won't die when they trip it, they'll just be stuck in a stinky cage with some rotting cherries.)
Now to back up just a bit: We first saw the bear on Saturday night. We were standing on the porch for this express purpose: Bear Stakeout, and we saw it scamper across the road and up the hill across the street. We didn't get a great look at it, but we did see it! We learned quickly that Game and Fish won't come out unless law enforcement trees the bear. So Rus called 911 and then directed the officer in the direction of the bear, but no luck.
The next night Rus had the genius idea of putting the baby monitor right outside the garage door, with the receiver inside by the couch so that we would hear if the bear came up...And it did! At about ten that night Rus heard something over the receiver, so we both raced across the house to the garage, just in time to see the bear drag away a trash bag out of the trash bin he had just knocked over. He went to the middle of the road and paused there; we booked it across the house again so we could look out the front door. Rus was already dialing 911 and we both planned to just stay inside and try not to spook the bear so that the officers would see it when they came. But as we watched the bear climb the hill across the street, we saw that our neighbor across the street had come out to put his trash out for pick up. So we went out and yelled at him to go back inside (he was maybe twenty yards from the bear. This is "Rus talk". I actually have no idea how far twenty yards is. The neighbor was close). Minutes later the bear was still perched on the hill and the police came, actually spotted him this time, and the officer went up the hill after him. But the bear was too stealthy and got away...
So now we have a trap. Now we sleep with one ear primed to hear the loud slam of the trap door. He didn't come last night, we're hoping to get him tonight!
I'll keep you posted. :)
Here's the trap:
From the rear, peeking inside. Those little black dots are cherries. That dark black line on the bottom of the inside of the cage is the pressure plate. When he steps on that, the door slams shut.

St. George 2013

Dear St. George,

Oh how I love your sparkling blue pool and hot summer air. I love your cute little town where the older (more logical part) is laid out in a quaint grid and the rest of the roads curve enough to send you south for two miles and west for three and then north for four and east for one. I LOVE your thrift stores (my heart still lusts for those tassled cowgirl heels at urban renewal...) I even love your outskirts where sushi and theater will live forever in my heart and stomach.
I also love your beautiful temple. I love that its foundation was built with lava rock and a cannon. Be proud of that. (Look it up if you don't believe me...)
But most of all I love that you are the place that brings us all together: my mom, Lindsey, her mom Linda, and brother Bryan and friend Dagen, and Amy and her kids. And even Mike (Amy's husband), for a few days...
But oh how I wish that you weren't so far away. Because as my sister will readily affirm, I am not a great traveler. Even Rus will concur with this one simple truth: driving long distances starts out as great fun with me, but eventually it is just grumpy edginess with a side of white knuckles and clenched teeth. My life long goal will be to change this, but until then...
Simple evidence of my mileage-induced temper flares can be confirmed by the campground host at Jacob Lake. We like to stop there both to and from St. George because they have the best cookies in the world. On the way up to St. George, we had stopped to get our cookies and then decided to pull off and eat our lunches at the campground picnic tables across the highway. We had done this years before and assumed it was no problem. This time, after pulling the kids out of the van (after a 3 hour drive), and handing them their lunches, the camp host woman (let's call her CHW for short), walked towards our table and stated, accusingly, that lunch at that table would cost us nine dollars and that I had driven into the park way too fast. A vicious exchange ensued and abruptly ended with me driving as quickly as I could (on purpose), out of the campground. Tears fell, a few choice words were said, and I determined that she had forever soured my delicious cookie stop. Anyway, more on CHW later...
The rest of the week in St. George was very fun, and quite honestly a little bit stressful. My kids are beautiful choice spirits, amazing creatures in a million ways. But they are not perfect. They can be trying to the most patient observer. They whine. They cry. They are irrational. Bossy. Picky eaters. They have to go to sleep on time every night because if they are sleep deprived they are all of the above, magnified. Sometimes they are not nice to each other and to anyone within a half mile radius. They ask a lot of questions. They are used to me, I am used to them, and sometimes, most times, I am the only one who can calm them down or set them straight. I find myself easily irritated by their non-mellowness and non-perfectness, especially when we're around other kids who are so mellow and closer to perfect. And I hate parenting in public.
Anyway, after that admission of guilt, here's what we were up to in St. George:
A whole lotta swimming!!
Jacob was a lot braver this trip than in times passed; he actually jumped off the diving board and did a lot of swimming underwater with his goggles.

Sarah and Bekah...

The kids had a lot of fun making up different routines where they all jumped in, one right after another. Luke and Joshua spent hours doing back to back flips into the pool. All of Amy's kids could do flips, so sometimes they would each flip into the water, one right after another.




Hiking. At noon. In 112 degree heat. Not the smartest idea ever.

Playing on the awesome splash pad and river in downtown St. George.
Momma Blau actually made the swimsuit Marianne is wearing for Bekah. Lindsey gave it to me as a gift for my baby shower!

My beautiful girls...
Yes, Bekah got a hair cut...a SHORT haircut! And she loves it because I never have to touch it.



Whip cream war!





Also, everyone but Beau and Marianne (and Bryan and Dagen their babysitters), went to see "Starlight Express" at Tuacahn one of the nights. It was awesome. The songs were great, and only became catchier the more you had them stuck in your head, the actors were terrific, the weather (it's an outdoor theater) was perfect...My favorite part was how Jacob's favorite part of the play was the bats that kept darting in and out.
Here we are, minutes before departing for home:



I spent the entire week reflecting on my awful encounter with the CHW in Jacob lake. By Friday I was full of guilt and remorse for letting her bring out the worst in me. I bought her some flowers, Impatiens, and stopped by her campground on the way home. I drove in very, very slowly. I apologized to her and she seemed to not even recall the encounter. I wondered later if it was even the same lady. She told me over and over that I didn't have to bring her flowers...but I knew I needed to and I felt so much better after talking to her. Maybe she didn't ruin Jacob Lake after all...