The Bear Strikes Again & Jane Austen Soapiness
I’m glad you’re here! This month, learn an easy way to get rid of wasps feasting on your grapes…
Have a bear eat all the fruit!
A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I arrived home near midnight, after visiting family out of town. We’d just stepped through the gate when we saw an odd dark shape looming in the gravel pathway to our house.
Our grape arbor, that John had crafted 17 years ago, lay in a heap, the grapevines twisted and torn. It was too late and too dark to assess the damage, but the culprit was obvious: our resident bear had struck again.
And that’s when I decided to quit messing around—and bring in the authorities!
In the morning, John and I inspected the damage. The bear, on his final curtain call for the season, had made his most spectacular incursion yet.
Well, as you see above, the arbor was a goner. And so were the grapes. Our unwelcome visitor had stripped every fruit cluster clean as a whistle. Naturally, there wasn’t a wasp anywhere!
Another quick inspection around the yard revealed the bear had entered via new location: crashing down a fence post next to the house to squeeze through the small gap.
Beyond frustrated, I said, “That’s it—I’m contacting Fish & Wildlife.”
“I’m not sure what they can do,” said John. After a 30-year career in law enforcement, he has a more philosophical approach to the vagaries of life than I do. “But yeah, let’s give it a try.”
It was then I noticed the fence near our Asian pear tree was a little awry.
John and I went over for a closer look and discovered more of the bear’s handiwork. Not satisfied with eating every last grape, he hit the tree he’d been staring at longingly for several weeks.
Two branches from the top of the tree lay on the ground.
“I can’t believe this,” said John. While our blueberry shrubs are my special pets, this Asian pear tree is his. “I picked that tree clean—maybe I’d missed one or two pears.” What was so very discouraging was that the bear had climbed—and broken—the tree for such a measly amount of food.
This break-in was, by my count, the 12th time the bear had invaded our yard. Surely there was something officials could do about this critter!
When John talked about trying to resurrect the arbor, I said, “Let’s leave it as it is, in case we actually get someone out here.”
I wrote an indignant email to the state Department of Fish & Wildlife, outlining all the damage this young bear had done since the spring—plus our concerns about the bear’s lack of fear of humans, given the number of times it had come into the yard when we were around!
I received a reply from a manager the next day. She provided some basic bear safety facts:
*Don’t put food in the garbage
*Don’t leave pet bowls out, same with bird feeders
*Keep your orchard picked.
Well that was all well and good, but John and I had been up to speed on all that stuff for ages, ever since we moved out here.
The manager’s stock response discouraged me even more—because it pretty much killed my secret hope that F&W would come to our rescue and relocate the bear! Still, she said she’d forward my email to an officer.
I was relieved they hadn’t completely blown off my letter—and in fact, a Fish & Wildlife police officer phoned the following day. Tucker sounded very calm and friendly, and we made an appointment for him come out to our place.
The following week, a tall, clean-cut 30-something guy knocked on our door. He introduced himself, saying, “When I got your email, I knew a phone call wasn’t going to do it—I’d better go out.”
Dressed in an Eddie Bauer fleece jacket, and wearing a ball cap and hiking boots, Tucker looked like any other Pacific Northwest outdoorsy type. “I haven’t been up here before,” he said right off the bat. “You’re really out in the middle of nowhere.”
A lot of folks have said that about our place—but they were city people. So his comment sure surprised me, coming from a guy whose job took him into the wilds!
Despite the officer’s unassuming appearance, he really knew his bears. While John and I showed him all the places the bear had broken the fences, Tucker regaled us with lots of helpful insights on bear behavior.
“Bears are really curious,” he pointed out, guessing that was why this young bear walked into our shop (when I was just around the corner!). Not because the critter smelled baited mousetraps.
John and I emphasized the bear’s many incursions in early summer—breaking down trees to eat green apples. “Could be he didn’t know any better than to eat green fruit,” said Tucker. “But that’s one motivated bear.”
I suppose we were lucky we’d called Fish & Wildlife in October—apparently these folks get really busy toward the end of the summer. “As soon as the plums and apples are ripe,” said Tucker, “my phone starts blowing up!”
In the late summer and fall, bears are all about packing on the pounds prior to hibernation—ideally gaining three to five pounds each day.
Tucker was surprised, though, that the bear had been so inspired to hit our “managed” fruit trees. “Most of the reports I get are when a bear gets into a 25-foot apple tree, one that’s too tall for the homeowner to pick.”
Ultimately, keeping bears away from your place is all about what the professionals call “food rewards.” Take them away, and you won’t have bears around! “Bears know instinctively when apples are ripe—so pick early,” Tucker recommended.
Well, John and I have been down that road in previous years—letting the apples hang around on the tree, and sure enough, we’ll have a bear get in. On the other hand, not one bear has come near our yard once our harvest is over.
Too bad fences don’t do the job. The thing is, you can’t build fences high enough to keep bears out. “They will den near the top of thirty-foot tall cedars or maple trees,” Tucker told us.
Then he mentioned the one solution for protecting your crops year round—that we really didn’t want to attempt.
Electrifying your fence.
He knew first-hand that it really worked. Tucker had kept commercial beehives in the middle of Montana grizzly country, surrounded by what sounded to me like a totally inadequate fence—only 42-inches tall.
But making it electric makes all the difference. “Bears, even grizzlies can jump over a fence,” said Tucker, “but they won’t.”
“You put bacon grease in spots on your electric tape,” he added. “When the bear noses the spot, Zap!”
He’d seen many a bear only try his fence once. And apparently you only need one strip of electric tape. “Seven thousand volts will do it.”
After picking the brain of our bear expert for the better part of an hour, John and I thanked him for coming out. “You’ve got my number,” Tucker said, “so call if you need anything.”
Well, John and I had gotten an excellent bear education. Yet being no closer to protecting our yard for next spring, we’re just kicking the can down the road.
But let me tell you, if that stinkin’ bear gets into my strawberries again, I’m ready to go nuclear! 7,000 volts!
The Not Quite Jane Austen Department
Fresh from my third reading of Persuasion a few months back, I persuaded myself to give Jane Austen’s unfinished novel, Sanditon, another try. Actually, it’s not quite her novel—she died after writing only a few chapters.
Sometime in the 1970s, an Austen scholar-type writer worked with the Austen estate to complete and publish the novel.
I’d started the book years ago, before I became an “Austenophile” but just couldn’t get into it. But now that I was a true Austen fan, I was sure I would appreciate it!
Um…nope. The novel, to me, didn’t have a scrap of Austen’s signature charm, wit, and subtle social commentary. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Austen lovers over at Masterpiece Theatre (who also like the ka-ching ka-ching of her novel’s adaptations) from bringing “Sanditon” to the screen!
I’m now into the costume drama’s second season. As you see, the series is billed as “inspired” by Jane Austen’s unfinished novel.
“Inspired” is using the term loosely, I think! At first I was dismayed by the very un-Austenlike behavior of some of the characters. Then I told myself, “Jeez, don’t be such a purist!
Then and there, I decided to simply enjoy the series for what it is—kind of a PG version of “Bridgerton.”
Much of “Sanditon” feels like pure soap opera, with a beautiful, kind and wise heroine who has loved and lost, with lots of hints about heroes that might be villains, and villains who might turn out to be heroes.
Still, it’s great escapist viewing!
Any “Sanditon” series viewers out there? I’d love to hear what you think!
For Gardeners and WIldlife-Lovers
Interested in stories about life and food gardening in the middle of the woods? Just head over to my Little Farm in the Foothills blog. This month, you’ll find new posts about storing your garden crops, and an orchard pest breakthrough, plus loads of other food gardening, wildlife and homesteady topics you can find easily through the search bar at the upper left.
But let’s take a sec to talk about blog advertisements…
I confess I’ve gotten really frustrated, trying to read blogs that load up an ad every two or three lines of text. Recipes interrupted by ads make me even crazier! I realize the authors are only trying to pay their bills…but since our internet is slow and life’s too short, I always end up just closing the site.
But my Little Farm blog being a labor of love, it’s completely ad-free—and always will be!
Special Thanks on the 1st Anniversary of Little Farm Writer
One year into Little Farm Writer, the fact that it exists is due to one very special person: my sister Patricia. A couple of years ago, she began sharing her favorite foodie Substack, Time Travel Kitchen by Jolene Handy, and suggested I start a Substack of my own.
Inspired by the all-around excellence of “Time Travel Kitchen” and other writers I discovered through Substack’s connectivity, I loved the idea. But I couldn’t see how I’d find the time. Or the nerve.
As the months passed, Patti continued to encourage me to start a Substack, until finally, I worked up the courage and plunged in.
Producing this newsletter every month has been so rewarding…but reading and following other Substackers is where I’ve truly expanded my horizons. I’m so grateful for all the inspiration, ideas, interesting comments, and great reading!
To the new subscribers who joined Little Farm Writer this month, welcome—and thank you so much for coming on board! And to every subscriber and reader, I appreciate each one of you.
Please feel free to get in touch—you can leave a comment, or if you prefer, reply directly to this email. Whichever way you choose, I’d love to hear from you.
As always, thank you for sharing your time with me. And if you liked this post, I hope you’ll hit the ❤️ button—it can help other folks discover Little Farm Writer!
For all you readers who celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope it’s a happy time for you…and if chill winter winds are on the way where you live, may they come in gently—
~Susan, from the Foothills
And I worry about rabbits in my garden?
Good grief! You are so brave!
Wonderful newsletter, inspiring perspective!
Another wonderful post! Congrats on your Substack anniversary 🎉
So happy you finally ventured out on this platform. Can't believe it has already been a year. Looking forward to many more delightful entries 💕