One Girl Gone Wild

The Winter Has Been Long

2009-03-16T10:39:00.002-05:00

I haven't felt much like writing about myself lately. I'm more liking getting around the wilderness and going to school. There have been many sunny days, but I have found the sunlight depression people claim when the sun hasn't been out for months. My solution to that is clam bakes. Fake-n-bake at the local tanning salon. It has been too cold to spend more than 5 minutes outside for the last 4 months. Sub-zero temperatures in the daytime have been the norm since December. It's these temperatures that have prevented me from getting sunlight, or feeling like writing. I've joined Facebook and taken pro-active steps toward getting my brain to work on the sunny side of life, but nothing has been working like the tanning beds. I feel much better. I suppose the shock of moving from a big city has something to do with the sadness. It might also have to do with Gracie.

During the last few months, I've learned that my father is allergic to dogs. He never told me he is allergic to them. He never mentioned the runny nose he gets at friends houses. He said he doesn't think about it. BUT when my brother came to visit, rather than telling me that he is feeling sick due to the dog, he tells my brother. When I asked my dad why he let me bring a dog home to his house, and why he chose which dog to bring home, he said it was my lesson to learn. Alright, I am 32 years old and I have learned many lessons including this one: Don't believe your father ever again. He lies.

I looked for many people to take Gracie. I've asked dad to get an allergy shot at his next doctors appointment. Nothing worked. I knew I needed to take her back to the shelter. It was easy. Too easy. I signed papers, brought her in, and while she sniffed around the place, I gave the leash to the workers. She knew. Her tail is usually up above her in a round black curl. Today, it was down on the ground. I wish my dad wasn't such a pushover. I'm not a pusher, and I don't make anyone do anything they don't want to ever. I even ask if someone is okay with something 2 or three times. I give chances like, "are you sure dad?". "we don't have to do this now." "Maybe we could wait a few days or months." Why is he such a pushover. Doesn't want to make waves or cause any kind of conflict for what? So his health can diminish. I have an idiot genius for a father. I told him I would not live with him if the dog had to go. I am leaving. And he will know it was about the dog. If he can teach me a lesson when I'm 32, I can teach lessons to him when he is 75.

I'm getting a bartending job soon while going to school and finding an internship. I'll find a place to live. I won't have a dog, but I'll have sanity around me. Not someone trying to be happy all the time because he thinks that is what people want him to be.

I'm going to find happiness somewhere. Maybe in freedom and liberty there is happiness. I don't want to pay a ton of bills, but obviously he doesn't want or need me here. I try to help him with his diet, and he just eats peanut butter sandwiches even after every meal. I try to remind him to get more sleep or to get more exercise, and he just says, "I know". I'm here for nothing. I'm not much of a help. He can get his friends to help him with the things he wants help with.

Maybe I'm just angry. Maybe it just me and my mood at the moment. Maybe I just need to get out of this house. Maybe I should stop trying to make excuses for inexcusable behavior and go.

I'll go.

16) Pics of My Home the Wild and Mushrooms Galore!

2008-10-04T18:36:00.003-05:00

15) Cold Is Settling Down

2008-09-30T16:51:00.002-05:00

There's a slight squirmy chill in the air today. I can't seem to sit still. I've got a hundred and one reasons why I shouldn't go outside, however I know I need to finish some projects. Dad's observatory needs more paint on the other side. The ginseng is still at the other plot of land. I need to make beds for it here, plant it into the ground, and cover it with mulch. This all means I get to drive a tractor possibly soon.

Yesterday I wasted a ton of time searching for mushrooms out back by the cemetery. I found puffballs, and a whole bunch of others that are to me indistinguishable from anything. They're all in canvas and paper bags in another room, but I'll go through them one of these days soon, before they rot.

I walked through the cemetery for the first time yesterday. I found 4 license plate type grave markers. Two of which said Baby Hardy, and gave no birth date. The other two gave names, and the ages were too young. They died when they were children in around 1905. It amazes me that these aluminum plate type markers would last so long. I didn't look through the stones very long, and my curiosity is more and more wondering about the light I see all night long across the barbed wire and into the graveyard. A solar powered light shines all night so that the loved ones can come see their family's memorial, and know where it is. Well, my fingers are warming up now. It's about time to start cranking out some articles.

14) I wrote it!

2008-09-30T16:43:00.002-05:00

Mushroom Health Benefits

In studying the mushroom benefits, I was surprised at all the healthy aspects of mushrooms that blew other vegetables out of the water. If you ask anyone why they eat mushrooms, most will say they like the taste or the texture, but not many will tell you about the highest level of nutrients found in mushrooms than any other vegetable. Not many people know. There’s all the hype about eating berries, apples, oranges, carrots, broccoli, and we know all the reasons why. When adding mushrooms to salads, people don’t much realize that they are adding the most important vegetable to their plate.

Here are 7 helpful facts about mushrooms:

1) Mushrooms have low energy concentration. Less calories helps to keep your weight in balance. Eating more mushrooms could contribute to weight loss.

2) Mushrooms have a high raw fiber content. High raw fiber consumption results in the lack of hunger pangs which in turn prevents overeating.

3) Mushrooms have low sodium concentration. Anyone with hypertension can eat them without restrictions.

4) Mushrooms do not have starch. Rather, they contain mannitol which is half as sweet as cane sugar, and can be consumed by diabetics.

5) Mushrooms are low in purine. Beneficial to people suffering from gout and rheumatism

6) Mushrooms are highly concentrated in essential vitamins. Up to three times more than other traditional vegetables.

7) Mushrooms have high concentrations of essential minerals and trace elements like selenium and potassium.

Some statistics about mushrooms in 100g of white mushrooms, the following was found.

Calories: 40 - Average of most vegetables

Sodium: 9mg - Significantly less than other vegetables

Potassium: 450mg – Significantly much more than other vegetables

Vitamin B-1: 0.10mg - Significantly much more than other vegetables

Vitamin B-2: 0.47mg - Four to Five times more than most other vegetables

Vitamin B-5: 2.25mg - Four to Five times more than most other vegetables

Vitamin B-9: 0.027mg - Four to Five times more than most other vegetables

Vitamin D: 1.88 micro g - One of the only vegetables with this vitamin

Selenium: 28 micro g - Twenty Eight times more than most vegetables

As you can see, there are many amazing benefits to making mushrooms a part of your daily regimen of fiber and nutrients. I can’t wait to get my hands on some fungi to cook lightly and devour!

Field Guides to Mushrooming

2008-09-29T12:36:00.004-05:00

Click Here for Information on hunting mushrooms!

Click here for Dog Training Tips!

13) Teach Me How To Make Money

2008-09-27T15:59:00.002-05:00

I have put applications into every business that is hiring within a 30 mile radius of where I live. That happens to be about 2 businesses, and the filing deadline had already passed when I sent out my resume's. Other than that I have sent about 20 applications and resume's to at least 20 companies in the area who are not hiring in hopes that they have need for someone as talented as I am. I have not received a response yet. How can I find a successful venture out in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a recession, unless you'd like to call it a depression? I've searched deep and wide to find a service where I answer really dumb questions for hours on end for .10 per answer. I have found a potential way to make money, and I'm learning the ins and outs of blogging. This is starting to get fun, however I've made zero money on them so far. I certainly have a lot to learn. I'm writing articles for other people's blogs, and that pays all right. I can do it part time and make a few bucks. Another thing, I am a customer and representative for a "wellness company". Another word for Network Marketing person. The goods they sell are great, so I'm doin all right with that too. For the record, I have been working my butt off, and I have not seen my paychecks yet. They all seem to be out there in cyberland waiting for a click. In the mean time, let me just go back to my article writing, and make another couple bucks for the day.

12) Fog

2008-09-24T23:39:00.001-05:00

11) The Smartest Chipmunk

2008-09-23T10:12:00.002-05:00

Yesterday my dad and I had an adventure. We went for a walk without Gracie out back. About 50 yards or so there is a pond that has shrunk down into it's muddy shore. The cows, deer, and birds stop occasionally to drink. Left over remnants of lost artifacts long lost remained on the north end of the shore. An old buggy wheel rim, a coal burning stove, a laundry ringer, and many rusty metal buckets. There was an old mailbox and it's flag I found about 15 feet from where the box was partially buried. My father was telling me about the uses of some of the things we found there when I stopped him.

"Look! Dad look at the chipmunk!"

Closer to the pond where you almost had to step in the mud, there was a crushed, rusty metal bin, and just on top was a little head with tiny ears poked up from the rubble. A small chipmunk. He was just looking at us, still as can be. My dad went over to the pile of scrap, and decided he would shake the vermin out. He lifted the browned tin, and we watched for the little rodent to scurry, wondering which way he would go. I was intent on watching for the chipmunk, I was really curious why he hadn't run away from the rubbish, until dad cried out, "Bees!" As he stepped backward, there was a large mogul topped with grass behind him, and he toppled over down to the ground. I was surprised and asked dad to get up so we could get away from the suddenly startled bees. He said he wanted to rest a moment.

I looked to where I thought the bees would be swarming which should have been all over us. And there were only a few. "They're cold", Dad said. "That's their babies in the white stuff." The bees had begun to move around a little more, and I thought it might be a smart idea for us to leave. Neither one of us was stung once, and dad simply has a sore hip from falling. I'm grateful that nothing serious happened. I didn't have a phone with me, and if the bees had been warmer, I would have had to leave him in the bees to get help. I'm glad nothing serious came of this, but next time I'll have my eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

One question though, how was the chipmunk able to live in there with the bees and not get stung either?

10) I Want to be a Jack Pine Savage

2008-09-19T21:56:00.005-05:00

I learned tonight what exactly a Jack Pine Savage is. Three versions of definitions have clarified it for me. One) It is a group of poor people who live off the land out in the country. They don't have jobs or dental insurance. They typically have missing teeth, and will generally pick on city folk. Two) It is anyone who lives in central or northern Minnesota. Three) A Jack Pine Savage is someone who lives in northern Minnesota, and who knows how to live off the land if necessary. I tend to believe the third, and contribute the previous opinions to people who are prejudiced against people who don't smell of high end perfume or shop at Channel, and people who have been accused of being Jack Pine Savages in the past. The accused, I assume, weren't offended, rather they were happy to learn that a stereotype had been created to describe their way of life. In a way, I am on the verge of becoming a Jack Pine Savage myself. I will have chickens and go ice fishing. I got my Minnesota Drivers license in the mail today, and jumped for joy.

This state is magnificent. Bald Eagles, Ospreys, and Vultures grace the sky each day. The moon tonight rose red for a thousand speculations. Small frogs cross the treacherous highway just as I zoom into their view. This evening, Gracie barked for the second time in a month at what sounded like a deer getting stuck in the barbed wire. I'm glad to be a resident here.

I spoke to a friend I've not seen in about 5 years. It was comforting to hear her voice. I suppose the only voice I've heard for these past 5 years was my ex.

He was the only sound that I listened to. All of my opinions were obsolete. He gave me my opinions. If I expressed a belief or a new thought, I was wrong each time because he had the right thought, and told me what my beliefs were. I began to doubt myself many times over during that relationship. I know better. I only hope that more women who are in my position realize what detriment they fall to sooner than I did. I lost myself to him. It happened ever so slowly, and once he learned that he had full control, broke away from the relationship the only way he knew how. Drinking with strangers. I became such an angry monster while he was out. He hooked me, reeled me in, pulled the hook out, and I knew him as my hero until I began to suffocate. This particular breed of man was medically undiagnosed, but I would say narcissistic, verbally abusive, lazy, and hopeless. In other words he had no faith in himself, and needed to control everyone around him so he could find his own sanity. I am not a mental health professional, but I would say that he had ADHD along with everything else. Maybe the ADHD is the cause of the irresponsibility and control issues. If it was, then the man should have gone to get diagnosis, medicine, and then look into natural remedies. I suffered so much for him. He never suffered, but suffered the people closest to him.

As I am getting to know my father again, I'm learning that I did not come from a man who puts any of his burdens on anyone, least of all his own family. That there should have pointed me in the direction of freedom. But it took a larger slap in the face than carrying a simple burden to boost me eastward. Looking back at the mother I was for his children, and the rent I paid with loans, I see that either I was really in love, really stupid, or both. I think I was simply ignorant. I knew the signs, saw them, and heard him discount the actions as things he wants to change about himself. But I never actually saw him make an effort to change any of his horrible habits. Whatever he promised me, however many times, however convincing, it was never enough because he never followed through. Either he forgot, or his word meant nothing to him. However, it meant everything to me, and now I am in Minnesota, living among the Jack Pines and their Savages.

I will learn to garden, farm, raise chickens, and weather well. I want to be a Jack Pine Savage. I might even shoot a deer for food. Grouse hunting season is almost open, and I'd like to learn how to do that too.

9) Open Season!

2008-09-14T17:24:00.005-05:00

A cascade of gun shots rang out like church bells today. The misty air vibrated with mental images of scurrying animals. I even watched a doe hop across the field out my window. The hunters are practicing their target shooting. Grouse hunting season is beginning, and that means nothing is safe in the forests here for a while. I won't be out walking alone or with Gracie having any adventures in the thick woods. It's too cold for a random walk like that anyways. I'm claiming that 50 degrees is too cold, however the locals would laugh in my face at the mention of it. If this chill feels too cold for my bones, I find it hard to fathom what 50 below zero feels like. Maybe I had better just enjoy the moment, and let the cold do what it will.

8) A Sister Lost A Sister Found

2008-09-14T09:25:00.006-05:00

Today, the rain is coming down in torrents. I look outside and I can see the shape of the wind in the air. It's a gloomy day outside and in. Today, a sister goes far away, back to Portland, Oregon. I have not spent much time with her since I was a little kid learning cheers for the playground, she tells me. Here I am 20 years older. So is she. What an amazing woman. She is a caretaker for some elderly, and such a warm hearted person. I'm going to miss seeing her, but the good thing is that I will never spend 20 years without her again. Her plans are to come up to the north country in a few years to build a new life with her husband. However it works out, I am glad to have a relationship with my sister again.

7) Raising Llama's

2008-09-13T19:54:00.002-05:00

Rain is a magnificent miracle. This is the first time it's rained for more than a few minutes since I've been in Minnesota. The sky is grayer than I've seen in 10 years. In California, everyday was the same. The meteorologist would claim 7 days, varying degrees of nice. Possible clouds, mostly sunny, and a high of 72. Here, I've seen rainbows from horizon to horizon, low dark clouds looming over us like monsters threatening moisture, but not following through. The sun peeks through, creating spots of light and dark across the freshly cut corn fields, and an occasional thunderstorm might break through just for an hour or so.

A few days ago was my first cold night. The temperature came down to 27 degrees. For early September, I guess that's some kind of record. The next morning when I took Gracie out for her first relief of the day, the ground was white, not from snow, but frost. Everything had frozen solid overnight. I haven't seen many seasons in the last 10 years. Trees in California don't even lose their leaves.

Today, giant puddles collect on our unlandscaped driveway, and Gracie is learning to stop in the mudroom to get wiped down before charging the house. The oak trees out my window look sad and droopy. Their leaves are on the verge of turning color, but none have made up their mind completely whether or not they should.

It looks to be a slow relaxing day after weeks of the stresses of contractors coming in and out. The gas man, the electricians, the handyman, the general contractor, the men who laid the bricks, the cable guy, the phone/DSL guy, and more electricians. I don't think anyone is coming for the rest of the day, and that means I can read my library books. I love picking out books to read. Even if I simply skim through them, it's still a stress reliever for me. My choice in literature has made a drastic turn since the move. I used to come home with books about how to eat better, exercise in small spaces, understanding psychology, and apartment storage techniques. The subjects of books I've chosen lately are a testimony to my change here. Bird dog training, training a hunting dog, herb gardening, gardening in cold climates, how to raise chickens, how to raise llamas, and a Writer's Market book. The irony is, would I have ever looked for a book on raising llamas in Orange County? I would have tripped over my feet laughing at the thought of it.

Deep down inside I have been yearning and aching for a home in the country. Blessings happen in the most dire of circumstances. I thought I was losing a family by coming up here, when in fact I am gaining the family I once lost.

6) A New Person

2008-09-07T12:45:00.005-05:00

From contemplative walks through the 3 acres of strange land with Gracie, my best friend, I’ve learned everything that was once important to me out west has changed. What life would be like if I were a different person? I feel like I have changed into a different person – living an entirely different life. I once stopped for a coffee at a coffee shop, sometimes 3 times in one day, I am now brewing my own coffee three times a day. I was once tucking kids in at night and taking them to school in the morning, I am now reading at night and getting ready to write and look for work during the day. My yard work no longer consists of hanging plants and sweeping a terrace. It is digging a fire pit, and transporting tree stumps to make a fire circle. Where am I going to plant the vegetables and build the chicken coop? You would think a person doesn’t lose who they are when they’ve moved a long distance, and lost almost every friend. I may sound the same, but my entire being is changing from the inside out while my routines change me from the outside in. The excitement of being in a new place keeps me going from day to day. My adrenalin kicks in and I am able to run with the dog, and harvest the Hazelnuts that grow naturally on the land. Even as I write, I peer out the window at the ever changing clouds above the ever green forest, and it inspires me. The question I ask myself is, "Inspires me to do what?"

5) The Dog in Me

2008-09-07T12:41:00.006-05:00

I have been contemplating having a dog, wishing for a dog, hoping for a dog, and today I have a dog. She doesn’t leave my side. She goes where I go, hears my voice, and comes when I call. Her name is Gracie, and she is a solid black German Shepherd straight from the animal rescue center in town. A little piddle on the linoleum now and then is not such a big deal, I’ve found. She is a puppy, a big puppy, and a big responsibility. I've been wondering why I had such a yearning for a dog, and I've come to a conclusion. The reason for the dog is to keep my mind off other things like a divorce I haven’t filed, children who called me mom who I might never see again, and she certainly keeps me from drinking myself into a drowsy depression. I suppose that without the dog, I might be just fine. I might have more time to make the new house less boxy, as in full of boxes from the move. Without the dog, I might also be picking on Dad and his flaws all the time, or picking on myself, or getting obsessive/compulsive about cleaning the place. Since I have the dog, I have more time to myself, because I can’t really go anywhere for more than a few hours at a time. This gives me time to meditate on the most important things in life. What are those again? Oh yeah, happiness must be one. I haven't had that in a really long time.

4) Safe or Unsafe

2008-09-06T21:17:00.008-05:00

Again, I took a few more steps. Just beyond a tree stump, I saw it. I scared it more than it scared me because the minute I greeted it as a sweet little thing, she struggled intensely to get her horns out of the barb wire fence. It was a little, white, very pregnant pygmy goat who got caught in the wires while trying to get a nibble of the raspberry plant just beyond. I suppose I really did save its life. From what I've heard, those goats are not very smart, and will die before trying to escape any trap most times.

Getting back to the issue at hand: I want a dog out here. If I had a dog, I am certain I would not have gone walking blindly into a forest. My self-assuredness would not have waned, and I would have followed the dog into the forest without a need for a gun or knife to keep me safe. Was it safe for me to go? I don’t know. I know I’ve seen many deer running through the clearing. I know the stories I’ve heard of the bear outside the window, and the wolves devouring their prey on the side of the road. I do know that I had an extremely exciting journey for those 15 minutes in the wild whether or not I was safe.

So I had a successful adventure out in the woods by myself! That hardly makes me savage, but I think I broke in the city girl fright by immersing her into a soup of wild life. I was in it, surrounded by it, hearing it, seeing it, breathing it, holding it, letting it go, letting it in me, and saving it as it saved me. I'm learning slowly that the flora is not so scary. It's just a bunch of bushes, and hopefully I'll be rescuing a stranded or hurt animal more often than running into a bear or wolf in my new home land.

3) The Thrills and Chills of the Wild

2008-09-06T21:06:00.004-05:00

I stopped when I got to the edge of the clearing where the thick forest began, to listen for the crying again. Yes, I was getting closer. The crying was louder, and seemed only a couple dozen feet away. Hoping I wouldn't run into any wild animals, and hoping that the sound really was an infant and not a bear, I called nervously into the blinding green, "hello". I gasped suddenly because the crying had stopped when I spoke. Whatever it was, it knew I was there, and it knew I was coming. "Hello!" I called out to let it, (whatever it was), know that I was not spooked, and I was still making my way.

Every few feet I paused to listen for which direction the sound came from, and continued pressing on. I stepped over fallen trees, broken limbs, sharp and pointy plants, and flowers. I pushed small flexible trees, dead branches, and everything with leaves out of my way; letting them fling back behind me as I let go. Pausing again, I listened and then called out again, "Hello!" I listened for any resemblance of a word from the crying hoping all the while that it is really, in fact, a human and not a baby bear. I thought I heard it answer for a moment. It sounded like an attempt at saying hello, but then again it could be my imagination playing tricks on me.

The crying started up again. This time, the it was softer, but closer. I stood in my tracks as still as the trees around me peering through the branches trying to see past that log, and that small pile of rubble just beyond. I still could not see what was making the noises, and stood there mostly frozen for a good five minutes. Each minute passed as though it were an hour. I literally stood still unable to move for a solid 5 hours in my mind. Finally, I began to breathe again and the fright slowly faded into curiosity. I figured if I don't move and find out what this thing is 12 feet away from me, I will stand here forever wondering.

2) A Gentle Cry in the Distance

2008-09-06T18:42:00.002-05:00

There was a day recently, in which having a dog would have come in handy. I had my first opportunity to act like a real life "Jack Pine Savage". A local so eloquently described for me the "forest people" here. He referred to them as “Jack Pine Savages”, and warned me to stay away from those types. I played it cool like I had met them before and could take care of myself, like the good, strong, independent California girl that I am. When, in fact, I still have no idea what he was talking about. So, I'll conjecture a bit, and get back to the "Jack Pine Savage" subject another day when I understand what he really meant. Suffice it to say that I am way off track.

Last week while my father was out getting groceries in town, I was shoveling the dirt out of his raised garden terrace so we could move it to our new home 8 miles down the dusty road. Off in the distance, I heard a soft cry, I tried to ignore it like I had been ignoring most of the sounds of the forest that morning. I was intensely focused on burning as many calories as I could before the sun came overhead, and the shadows of the trees no longer hid me from him. A half hour went by - maybe 250 calories burned - and the sad sound got louder in my ears with every minute that passed. It sounded like a child, about 18 months, crying like he was lost in the woods. My first thought was that sounds can be deceiving in the forest, so I went inside to find one of my father's guns. I felt so silly. I was going to go for a little stroll only about 50 yards away, and I thought I might need a gun? Regardless of the embarrassment of the situation if anyone had seen me, I still looked for something that would make a loud noise and maybe hurt something trying to hurt me.

I looked in every room for a simple .22 rifle, and all I found were shotguns. I have never fired a shotgun before, and none were loaded anyways. Why was it my first instinct to get a gun? It's probably nothing. Frozen from curiosity, I listened more closely to the cries. I thought it could very well be a baby bear who is stuck in a bramble or up a tree. If there is a mama bear anywhere nearby, I'd better be prepared. The guns were so heavy, and I have not been through any gun safety classes. If it came down to it, I would probably use it like a bat anyways. So I grabbed a very sharp hunting knife. Not thinking about how completely unprepared I really was, I began my slow, cautious walk through the waist-high grass in the direction of the cry.

1) My First Time

2008-09-06T16:16:00.005-05:00

I lived in Orange County, CA for my entire adult life, and I've recently come out to the country in the middle of a Northern Minnesota forest. I did not grow up in Minnesota, my parents did. They raised me out west, and then decided to both go back to where they came from. Dad went north, and Mom went south. I suppose they didn't understand why I wanted to return to the warmth of the California sunshine. I can tell you now that it was not because I didn't want to see them, not because I was angry. Frankly, I don’t know what brought me out to California. I think it might have had something to do with acting. I believe a close runner up was simply to refrain from freezing. I’m up in Northern Minnesota now to help out my aging father regardless of where he raised me, the good ole warm and sunny West.

For obvious reasons - not to obvious to me for the duration of the relationship - I left my brief husband, and I am filing for a divorce. I'm learning what it's like to live where people eat from their gardens, and to hunt or fish for their meat. They remind each other to "winter well" in the fall, and wish me, the newbie, luck through the cold. I'm here in fall getting ready for my first winter in Northern Minnesota; to take care of my father who has recovered from a stroke. I want to be with him, and he wants to be here in the near-wild. Here I am making a living for myself in a foreign land with people who don't even say the word "soda" - rather than a fizzy drink, conjure up a vision of the white powder used in baking. If you've ever seen the movie, "Fargo", you know the types. They're all a little nerdy and talk like they're from some outlying Scandinavian land. It's taken me a little while to understand what the locals are saying. It seems like they're all talking through their smiles. Is that what they mean by "Minnesota Nice"?

I think I'll have a vegetable garden out here, and possibly raise chickens. I've never lived like this, and since it's my first time here, it should be a first for doing a lot of things I've never experienced and always wanted. First, though, I'll need a dog to chase away the badgers, muskrats, and the occasional bear.