As of Friday afternoon, when I need to relieve myself, I head outside with a pot and metal spoon. Whatever I do outdoors, as I walk around the property, I beat the pot like a drum.
Am I enacting the story of The Little Drummer Boy? No.
Am I banishing evil spirits? No.
Am I leading a parade? No, certainly not.
Am I deliberately trying to be obnoxious? No.
We’ve got moose in the area again.
Our nearest neighbor alerted us by email that she’d had a cow moose and calf visit her garden to sample her kale Thursday. Friday afternoon, we looked out the window and saw them browsing in our windbreak. (I’m sorry I didn’t get any photos; the windows were so rain streaked, I couldn’t get a decent shot.)
We’re far more cautious about moose after our little run in on the property last spring. Instead of rushing out to chase them away, Michelle grabbed a pan and spoon and whacked it by the bedroom window. The moose took off toward the boat house. That was easy!
Unfortunately, we’d been there before, and the fact that they took that particular path raised unpleasant associations. It’s particularly problematic since that’s my current relief route. Also, whereas our last disagreement with the local moose took place in the spring, right now the calf is almost half a year younger, which means Mama Moose is half a year more nervous and protective.
Shortly afterward (and it was shortly—of course I had to go right away!) I made my way down the trail, wailing on the spaghetti pot. Feeling stupid, and no safer, I beat the dinner pot “announcing ruin like a town crier in Pompeii.”
So, for now until it simply becomes too annoying to continue, I’m The Little Drummer Boy.
Parumpah pum freakin’ pum . . . .
(Actually, by the time you read this, we’ll be tired of banging around, as it were, and will have gone back to normal. We take risks living out here, from falling trees to slipping off the rocks into the water, to moose, to tripping on a root and breaking a leg far from home. We deal with all kinds of risks without allowing them to take over our lives.)