This morning started off like any other:

Extreme iced coffee consumption, and a book outside while Paige played in her new playhouse in the yard.

Only this morning, there was a bear.

It started off innocently enough, I had just settled into an early morning phone call to my mom to bitch about stuff, when I turned, and beyond our little fence was a bear eating raspberries from our bush.  For some reason, I freaked out, grabbed Paige, told my mom I had to call her back because there was a bear, dropped the phone, and ran into the house….

To tell my husband, so we could go spy on it. And we did, until the dogs saw it and started barking like Old Yeller post rabies.  The bear, who we will call George was not even fazed, continued to waddle around eating leaves and what not, stopping occasionally to stand on a rock and look at us. I’ve never seen a “real live” bear and I’m pleased that they look exactly like teddy bears.

I’ve told about 100 people so far about George, and I will continue to do so. I MEAN HOW COOL. A BEAR!

[And after telling my mother in law, she told me to be careful since black bears eat people...]

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