I miss it now…

When you’re 15, chores suck. When you’re 30 and living in a region that only has two distinguishable seasons, neither of which really resembles the ones you encountered as a teenager, those archaic chores seem noble to the point you almost want to do them again.
I used to be in charge of cleaning up the trash left by black bears that tipped over the garbage bin and rooted around in our refuse. Now I kind of want to do an all night vigil in the tree next to the bin back home. Not  crouching on a limb in a loin cloth with a buck knife, but maybe a video camera and winter clothes to document this thing, then scare it away.

Bear snuck to the back door after destroying the garbage bin.

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