What Would Wilma Flintstone Do?
Two Sundays ago, as we lingered over a sixth cup of coffee, we happened to look out the window and realized that we had company.
We were very excited to see our visitor. Although we were glad that he didn’t knock on the door, and he may have lumbered around the patio just a bit too long.
It is terrific to live so close to nature. That being said, we vowed to take down all the bird feeders the next day.
We had a ton of yard work to do, so we spent the afternoon raking and cleaning up winter debris – and those of you who live in a more temperate climate may be in disbelief that winter clean-up is done in April in northwest Connecticut – but yeah, and in our winter coats too.
After the bear sighting, we had a plan to stick together that day. But of course, my husband had to go to the bathroom, and then I guess the phone rang, and then he was in the shed trying to get the old tractor started, so I ended up quite a distance from the house and all alone. I have heard that bears don’t like noise, so I sang. I sang “Me and Bobby McGee” which was pretty much stuck in my head anyhow, since I have been trying to play it on the ukulele for about seven weeks.
When my husband finally returned, I was gracious and brave, saying something congenial like
“Where the fuck have you been? I could have been eaten by a goddamn bear!”
And he was okay with that, reassuring me that he would have come quickly if I had screamed or anything.
“I think that might have been a teensy bit late. But now I am done and I am going in to have another coffee.”
So it was Hubby’s turn to be alone out there. I don’t know whether he sang, but if he did, it might have been “When The Moon Comes Over The Mountain,’ because Hubby has this thing for Kate Smith. His taste in music is what you might call “quaint.” Others (I’m not saying who) may think more along the lines of “insane.”
So I’m sipping my coffee and I look up from my book – and guess who is the back yard?
This guy is GINORMOUS! The morning bear must have been BooBoo. This guy’s is Yogi’s mean older brother.
Well, I ran immediately to the front door to get my husband in the house. Well, immediately after I found my phone and took this photo. I mean, I’d need evidence if the bear had already eaten my husband.
“Get in the house,” I yelled from the doorway. “There’s a huge bear in the back yard.”
And he came running right in.
“Jesus Christ!” he said when he got a look out the kitchen door. “That’s the biggest fucking bear I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s why I got you in right away. Now that you’re safe, let me see if I can get a picture.”
That was two weeks ago.
One week later, we are making progress. I am now raking out the flower beds around the house.
My husband is with me for a while – but then – he’s off to…well… I’m not exactly sure. But I’m going strong. The weather is better. I’m singing “Handyman” – the James Taylor version, of course, because I love James and I’m pretty handy.
I’ve worked my way over to the south side of the house.
And I hear it.
Something.
In the backyard.
It doesn’t sound like my husband.
The only door that is open is the back garage door. I am as far as possible from that door. I am so far south of that door, I am practically in Florida.
And my adrenalin kicks in.
Really kicks. I start to sweat. My heart starts to pound. I can hear my heart. It’s throbbing in my head.
And it occurs to me that this is the most primitive reaction that humans have. Fear. It dates back to our cavemen ancestors running away from woolly mammoths. Physical fear is a throwback to our prehistoric selves. The realization was rather amazing.
And then it happens. The adrenalin-activated fear causes another body reaction.
Flatulence.
Yes. I start to fart.
I never knew I could fart that much.
You’d think I was a man or something.
What the hell? Did the cavemen scare away woolly mammoths by farting at them?
Good thing it was my husband in the yard. And not a bear.
I didn’t really want to test the prehistoric fart theory.
notquiteold 
I laughed out loud there at the end. Funny. Glad you didn’t get eaten by a bear. They’re so cute but probably best to admire them from a safe distance.
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Once in a while we see a Mama with a cub or two. The cubs are adorable. Mama is protective. Scary protective.
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Hilarious! All except the part about a possible bear feast. That second guy went well beyond just a cute, cuddly bear visit for sure. How many dogs and cats are missing around your neighborhood? Yikes.
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This is bear season in Connecticut. They mostly leave people and little animals alone. Mostly.
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And there is still a bird-feeder in that photo. I want it down by Wednesday – and keep Snickie indoors.
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All feeders are down. All cats are in.
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I am so glad it wasn’t the bear, back to visit. On the other hand, you might have turned your back on him, let her rip and scare him away.
You’re a howl, Nancy. Can’t stop giggling. 😮
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It’s a theory I’m glad I didn’t have to test. But I had my weapon more than ready.
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😀 😀 😀
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You’re nuts (in a good way)! I loved that you had to stop to take a photo of the bear before alerting your husband.
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I have my priorities straight.
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Haha! I think that’s amazing – the most interesting thing I ever found in my backyard was a chicken that had escaped from my neighbours coop. It was a friendly little thing – I called it Derek. It didn’t bring out a fart reaction in me though. I suppose it would have done if I had eaten it…
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Bears are beautiful, but scary. The weasel they call a Fisher Cat is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my yard.
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We frequently have moose and dear in our backyard, but never bear. Clean-up in the spring involves removing large deposits of moose poop!
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We have a moose in our town once in a while… never seen one in our yard though. I think I will make a rule right away though that moose poop is my husband’s responsibility.
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Oh, so funny! Hubs and I are crying here. But hey! Maybe that’s where they got the idea for the Fart Gun in Despicable Me!
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I haven’t seen that movie… but it only goes to show how correct my theory is.
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DM 1 and 2 are two of our favourite animations.
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I think we all would have had the same thought realizing we could be better than a bird feeder! Funny stuff – but scary, too. next time, yodel and clip some mace to your pants! MJ
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I didn’t need mace, I had my own arsenal of gas.
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Where there are wee ones, big ones cannot be far behind! Love the fart theory, perhaps that will work with the rowdy dogs here in my neighborhood.
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Maybe it’s why men fart so much… their prehistoric instinct to keep wild animals at bay.
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Hysterical accounting of your ordeal. My best friend lives in Farmington, and they have bears roaming their back yard, too. Scary, to say the least! When you learn “Me and Bobby McGee,” you’ll have to teach me. I have a baritone ukulele. We’d get along famously if we lived near each other.
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Yes, Farmington is full of bears for some reason. And although I said I was TRYING to play it. Didn’t say I was succeeding. I am getting close to my retirement date by the way… we need to do lunch!
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Wouldn’t that be fun!
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Be grateful that it didn’t go past the amusing fart stage. The next stage is evacuation, also part of the fear response. Then, amusement would have combined with embarrassment and anger. Wish I was there, though you described it pretty well (the bear sightings).
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Well, bears shit in the woods.. I guess I can shit in the yard.
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Reblogged this on sixty, single and surviving and commented:
A good laugh this morning! Thanks, Nancy Roman!
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Thanks for the re-blog!!!
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Nancy, you’re priceless. So glad you didn’t get eaten, because I’d really miss you. Thanks for the laugh to start my day.
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I am also glad I didn’t get eaten, and I am okay with the fact that my husband didn’t get eaten either.
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I think it is a primordial response to the human fear of being eaten.
“I’m going for a different human, I can tell from the smell, this one has gone bad. Where’s the man? I’ll eat him.”
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That’s a genius observation. It’s imperative that we smell rotten so bigger animals don’t care to eat us.
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Thanks, Nancy! Sadly, I think about farts a lot.
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Someone has to.
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Nancy, I just saw this article and had to share it with you. Keep your hatchet sharp!
http://talkingpointsmemo.com/news/bears-massachusetts-don-t-chase-wielding-hatchet
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HAHAHA! Better than if the bear was drunk and wielding the hatchet!
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“We certainly don’t need anyone going all Davy Crockett …” Priceless!
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Are you old enough to remember coonskin hats and the lyrics to the song? “Killed him a ‘bar’ when he was only three..”
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Yup. Davyyyyyyyy, Davy Crockett. King of the wild frontier!
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Geez, the worst we get here (South London) is a fox or burglar. Mind they can be scary. Foxes that is. My advice is to accept you are one step up from cave woman and take man’s greatest discovery with you. Viz one match and box. If you light one of you gas puppies the flamethrower that ensues is sure to scare the bugger away.
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Not sure I wouldn’t blow myself up. Lighting farts is strictly man business.
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True, but in times of emergency!
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Thanks for the great story, farts and all. I live near New Haven, have never seen a bear. I went hiking in Yellowstone last Fall and hoped to see at least one bear while I was there…Nothing! Not sure I’d want to see one eating out of my bird feeder but, since everyone is safe, kind of cool getting that close although I would have been dropping F bombs everywhere. 🙂
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Come up to Litchfield county. We seem to have plenty!
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Thanks for the laugh out loud! I think the farting response was a primitive precursor to jet propulsion.
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Sort of in a Mad Max kind of way.
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Too funny! And so true! Now that it’s spring, I look out the kitchen window every morning before stepping out on the deck. I don’t want to be surprised by one of the neighborhood bears.
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Last year, one little guy (but not really so little) was on our patio, with his nose pressed against our kitchen door. He was really quite adorable, until I saw his brother and VERY big mother, at the bottom of the patio steps.
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Thank you so very much for making my day! We also have bear sightings in our neighborhood, and while on hikes, etc. I too sing my heart out because I don’t want to surprise any animal larger than a chihuahua by my sudden appearance. Gonna Reblog your article to my blog because my followers deserve some humor in their lives as well.
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Yeah, even turkeys are a little daunting.
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Reblogged this on Baby Boomers and More and commented:
Please, all my followers need to read this article from a very hilarious blogger – also a published author – whom I follow. You will not regret it.
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Thanks for the re-blog!
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Snork… a cross between a snort and a snicker.
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I love making someone snork!
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Okay, I am fairly certain the Mammoth smelled the farts and went for something that didn’t smell as bad. That must be it.
Priceless. Glad it was your husband and not a bear.
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Well, bears do have super sensitive noses, like dogs, so it might have helped!
Also, please bear with me, I don’t know if you can bear puns, but I think you are smarter than the average bear! 🙂
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I am barely smarter than a bear, but thanks!
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Ha,ha,ha!! You are hilarious. I love how you yelled at your husband asking him where the f@@@ he had gone! That’s exactly what I would have said to mine. And the farting….so funny! 🙂
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Priceless – I am so glad we have nothing bigger than the neighbourhood cat in our garden. And on the other side of the world we are into autumn/fall in a big way now.
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Thanks.. it’s terrifying, but also very cool, to look out the window and see bear and deer and turkeys and coyote.
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I am back with another link. This one might actually be useful as it tells you what to do when you meet different types of bears http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/7288394
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I saw that this morning! I am glad I wasn’t that close!
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