Bill's Musings

We finally have reached camping season. It seems that every year, we get more and more anxious to go and ‘rough it’. You have to say ‘rough it’ kind of fast, because camping these days has evolved somewhat since the days when we would just pitch a tent, so to speak. Now roughing it means cable instead of satellite television, a small gas stove instead of a double wall oven, using a smaller microwave, and having to share one bathroom.

Which is why the irony of what I’m about to tell you is so juicy. I love irony. In the dictionary, irony is described as follows: ‘incongruity between what is expected to be and what actually is, or a situation or result showing such incongruity’. In layman’s terms, irony can be ‘when your own words often come back bite you in the a$$’. There are so many ironic situations in our lives, some funny, some sad, some just downright NASTY. But, without it, life would be boring.

A while back, I mentioned how a guy showed up wanting to throw a dead raccoon into my garbage bin. I of course said no. Upon reflection, saying yes may have improved my ‘Raccoon Karma’.

Our first night of camping was absolutely spectacular, although it was little windy, and Anne was, sadly, in Toronto, so… just the boys and the dogs… roughing it. We had a great fire, watched ‘2012’, and generally had a hoot. After bedding down, and before falling asleep, we realised how blessed we were. We’re only five minutes from home should we need to return, and we’re right beside Lake Nipissing, which has always been a dream of ours.

Until 3 a.m., we were just peachy. Cue the Raccoon Karma. Outside our bedroom window is where the garbage can is. Now, I’ve camped enough to know not to put food or leftovers in a garbage can overnight, because it generally attracts critters. But apparently my kids aren’t quite as cognisant of this all important rule of thumb. And so two cartons of milk and various other items of leftovers ended up in the can. And raccoons LOVE this stuff.

I could hear the little miscreants getting all excited over the prospects of a free meal. I’ve taken the liberty to translate their little chirps and grunts. ‘This is the guy from the paper!’ one said. ‘Yea….let’s teach him for not taking in poor old Henry!’ the other exclaimed. The third said ‘And he thinks this type of garbage can will keep US out! We could open it with our tippy toes!’ Well, I thought it was a good can, but apparently Nature’s Little Burglars did not, and while cute, they are also quite cunning. After having their way with our garbage, I was left to pick up the pieces….so to speak.

What’s crazy is, I didn’t even know raccoons read the Tribune. They’re not only cute and cunning, but have mad reading skills!! I’d say it’s a good thing this fellow didn’t try to bring by a dead bear or a cougar.

Mother Nature is a fickle lady. She always wins in the end.