When my husband went out to do the grocery shopping yesterday he took a nominal list with him to remind him what I needed in the kitchen to prepare the week's meals. As for choices in produce, I leave that up to him, apart from the standbys that we cannot do without; tomatoes, bell peppers, cucumbers, lettuce, perhaps snowpeas and daikon, sometimes fennel. And then of course, garlic heads, sweet and cooking onions, potatoes, parsnips. Yesterday he also chose asparagus, cauliflower and corn. Corn? Too early in the season for me.

But I suspect my husband was feeling a bit of premature nostalgia for carefree summer meal preparations depending heavily on the barbecue, and since the supermarket was advertising first-of-the-crop California corn -- yes, trucked in all the way from California -- he bought a few ears for us, and an 'extra' one for our resident raccoon. Yep, one for the raccoon. Which my husband dutifully stripped and put out for the raccoon's delectation.

As it happens, it appears that raccoons are no more intelligent at making nutritious choices for themselves than most people. Two bites were taken out of the corn before it was set aside, and the raccoon opted instead for the stale leftover bread products that were available to him recently deposited in the composter. This is a raccoon with a mind of its own, and it doesn't mind displaying its choices, even with an audience.

A few days back I was in the gardens at the front of the house, just after we'd returned from an early afternoon ravine walk. Having collected washed eggshells for the past two months I had decided to finally distribute them around the perimeter area of the countless hostas we have in our gardens, finally beginning to push their way out of the recently-thawed soil. I happened to be standing close to the feeding station my husband still stocks for area wildlife.

And I became aware of a movement a close distance from me, turned my head and there was the raccoon, arrested in motion, having spotted me just as I had him. I reassured him in a low, calm voice that everything was all right, he had no reason to be alarmed, and I suggested that he just proceed with what he had intended, and he obviously agreed with me.

He continued his approach to the feeding station, and I stood still for a moment as he did so, then I moved off to create a little more distance between us while continuing to scatter crushed eggshell on the soil to deter any slugs that might have plans to gnaw on the hosta foliage leaving an unsightly mess. I tended to my business and the raccoon to us.

I usually take my little camera along when we go off on a ravine walk. I was wearing the same jacket against the wind and cool temperatures, and realized I had the camera close to hand, so out it came with the raccoon obligingly the silent target of a few photographs.