Sharing Apples and Peanut Butter

We are Graced by Coyote.

(Note the capital “G” above. No fool, I)

This sprightly gent dines elegantly on an apple core I tossed into our yard. Opossum most often dine on fruits and veges we offer, and Opossum can be right persnickety when they’re dining. Coyote avoid them more often than not.

Which tells us this fellow dines sans Opossum as either guest or host.

But there are Raccoon around because we can hear them chastising this handsome lad.

We leave out apple cores because a favorite snack (for me) is Granny Smith apples and chunky peanut butter (love the chunky kind, not so much the smooth kind (and that description tells you much about me and why I chose as I did)).

I often sit outside and The Wild come to me, take from my hand and dine with me.

Heck, Raccoon and Skunk come into my lap (I sit on the ground usually), stand up supporting themselves with their forepaws on my chest, and sniff my breath to determine if what I’m munching on is better than what I offer them (I do not recommend others do this).

Makes me wonder if I should share some apples and peanut butter with them.

Or with this fellow, any way.




Anybody like piles?

The following is a true story, something I witnessed when studying in Alba Nuah and Alba itself.

An elderly woman had an impacted tooth. Her jaw was swollen, she couldn’t eat, and spent most of her time suffering loudly.

One of my teachers was asked if he could help.

He wrote a prayer (in Scots Gaelic, of course. He regularly told me Scots Gaelic is the only true Gaelic. Evidently God, the angels, and Jesus also speak/spoke Scots Gaelic. I didn’t argue) on a piece of paper, folded it down down down until it was about half-an-inch on a side, and handed it to her.

“Chew this on your tooth. Your pain will go away and your tooth will be healed.”

She doubted, but he was well known for his knowledge and abilities, so chew she did.

After about five minutes of chewing, she looked up, her eyes wide, and smiled. “The pain’s gone!”

Her husband, watching carefully, said, “I wonder if that’d work for piles.”

My teacher almost fell over laughing.

I did, too.

But still I wonder.

And here, Hecate, Hermoine, and their piles.




Little Mother Returns

For the past thirteen years one of my great joys is the return of Raccoon. I mentioned my first Raccoon encounter with Rocky aka Rockalina many times and still tear up thinking about her.

She was such a gentle soul. Petite by the standards of Raccoon we’ve seen over the past few years.

And each year the little mothers return. This young lass is the first of 2022’s mothers. The warmer weather has already had several little mothers return this year, 2023.

I may get to their videos next year.

You never know…


A Glorious Grouping

Once again, Raccoons gather.

We’re always so happy when our little furballs return in the Spring. I’m posting this in Feb ’23 and I recorded it in Mar ’22, just shy of a year ago.

Usually they come out of winter a tad leaner than these stout ladies here.

Leaner and often after a bit of raccoon loving, their bodies not yet swelling with kits waiting to be born.

We watch them bulk, make sure they have protein and fats, a good mix, so their teats will be full to nurse their young.

And then, a month or two later, kits!

But for now, a glorious grouping of garrulous girls.



Cautious Dining

A new guest arrived at Chez Carrabis a while back, an at-the-time unnamed skunk.

We’ve had skunk before.

And truth be told, they are a fun lot.

Some say skunk are quick-tempered.

Not so those who dine with us.

Although we, like Raccoon, start cautiously.

No need to be foolhardy.

Mostly our visiting skunk stay to themselves. The juveniles – one being the Larry mentioned in the video – are more willing to hobnob. The elders – Ferdinand, as also mentioned in the video, being one – are quite pleasant once they get to know you.

If nothing else, they’d rather trundle off than give offense.

Oh, how I wish Two-Legs were the same.