Some of you may recall my epic battle with Bell Canada. If not, and you would like to read the blow-by-blow accounts of my heroic struggle, you can find them here and here.
Well, I’m happy to report that since those words hit the Interweb, I have not received a single dunning letter. They’ve stopped. And no cop-voiced guys have called, telling scary stories about what happens to deadbeats when the Bad Credit Monster is unleashed.
I suppose it could be a coincidence. But I suspect Someone In Authority read the stories and decided to remove me from the list.
See? There is a God.
I saw the young crow once more, two mornings after I wrote about him. Since then, nada. There has been no gathering of crows in that area. Nor have I seen a youngster hanging around. Pretty sure it’s safe to assume he’s flitting about with his friends and family, cawing his fool head off. I feel pretty good when I think about that.
Some of the photos which follow should have accompanied the previous column/post. I took them the same day. However, due to that lack of ambition thing referred to in my opener, I didn’t get around to uploading them to my computer until now. My bad.
The above pic is a peek into what I call the North Cedar Grove after a couple days of rain. Ben and I walk through it most mornings.
This cedar gives you an idea of their individuality. I refer to this one as Elephant Nose.
This shot illustrates the texture that I mentioned when the bark is wet. You can see it more clearly if you click on the photo to get a larger view. (Then hit your back button to get back to this page.) You may also note the peanut I left for a squirrel or bluejay.
Since I'm such a fun guy....
This enterprising slug and snail climbed nearly six feet up a tree. If gooey critters ain't your cuppa, you'd best skip over the next shot.
This log was alive with tiny slugs and snails after a couple of rainy days.
This is the north half of my backyard. In the background, you can see the spiffy birdbath Hilary got me for my birthday. A couple of days after this shot, all the poppies you can see in the foreground burst open in a blaze of short-lived, orange glory.
I'll wrap up by showing the results of a fishing foray to a small stream about a half-hour's drive away: two nice brown trout. The bigger one was 16 inches. Both did my frying pan proud.