Ah, the afternoon. Lunch has been foraged and ate, and I have settled down to relax in a shady grove… of coconut palms… on a sofa.
Now there are those of you who may wonder why a Bear is in a coconut grove, and still others who would question the veracity of the aforementioned sofa. How came these things to pass?
Well this particular Bear, who can at times be most particular, seems to have lived the majority of his life thus far on islands, whilst never being particularly particular about which continent those islands were on, or off, thus far off islands seems to be appropriate.
So I am indeed on a far off island, though not the farthest, no not yet, not by a long, long way.
Farther, from my point of view, than Mr Kipling (and I don’t mean the one with the exceedingly sugary cakes) though perhaps not from the point of view of Mr Disney. No great surprise then that I find in my grove, the Bear Necessities… like a sofa… which is in my house.
It’s not a big house, and it will serve for a few months – it’s not as if I have a lot of luggage to store, after all. Just a small white house in a shady coconut grove.
So I sit here listening to the “Hoa”… Thud! of the locals harvesting coconuts. They really do grow on trees round here. And occasionally, quite dramatically, and for no reason apparent to the passing Bear, stop growing on trees, and start descending rapidly towards the earth that nurtured them so well. Whilst my grasp of the local language is currently limited to the words for “Hello”, “Thank You”, and quite fortuitously “Pork”, it seems clear to me that the communication between the coconut harvesters seems to be along the lines of “Coming your way” and “Bugger me that was close! Watch where you’re chucking those things!” Perhaps a diligent ear might extract some choice Buddhist swear words, if such exist, so probably better off if I stick to the tried and tested “Pork” next time I visit one of the local street vendors. Never a good idea to offend a foreign matriarch who happens to be armed with a hot skewer.
Anyhow, the Bear Necessities… Honestly, if I had a coconut for every time microsfot tried to autocorrect my spelling of Bear… oh, wait, I actually do have that many coconuts, and more to spare. Enough to shy at Mr Gates all day, should I so wish. I wonder if any single agent has done more damage to the fluent creativity of the English language than that alleged writing aid? Yet I digress, and the sun sinks westward… and mozzie repellent makes my fur sticky.
So, BEAR necessities, today included pork (how apt) stir-fried with ginger, garlic, cabbage and pineapple. All fresh. The closest any of those ingredients came to a tin was when the pork was barbequed in half an old oil drum. Bears, as you might expect, thrive on a hunter-gatherer lifestyle, partly because of the relaxed afternoons, and mainly because it tastes divine, and it’s really just a happy coincidence that it happens to be a very healthy way to live. Perhaps you could try it some time (Check out Gnolls.org or Marks Daily Apple). Probably the hardest part for me, living here, is continually having to say no to rice. All the things that contribute to a true paleo lifestyle can be foraged right here.
There is, for example, about half a tonne of organic burger currently tethered to a nearby tree. I guess they use a thin rope to prevent loss of trees, as nothing would stop that beast if it gained a bit of momentum. I trust that it shares the local Buddhist pacifism. Of course, the paleo lifestyle publications, being written by residents of the USA (as distinct from “Americans” from elsewhere in the Americas) specify “grass fed beef” though I’m sure if they came across my neighbour stood sideways across the track they would, like the rest of us, find an alternate path, and accept that free foraging water buffalo is probably as good a food as a bear can get. Still, you wouldn’t catch me carving a steak off that one without permission. Brave, yes, stupid… well not that stupid.
Time passes, and Bears need to forage. Fortunately for me the matriarch with the hot skewer knows how a Bear expresses his request for a barbequed free range organic chicken leg… in fact all I have to do is turn up and smile, and she seems to know, with some uncanny insight, that I want to buy what she wants to sell. The perfect symbiotic relationship, as nature intended. It’s amazing how far a Bear can go on “Hello” and “Thank you”.
Enjoy yourself, I am.