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Bunny in Gas Mask. WTF?

Sometimes, especially in a very small town, it is not a bad thing to be known as a Crazy Lunatic. With a gun.

I don't like guns or gunplay. Really.

But when I lived in Atlanta, in Little Five Points, and just over the tracks from the "bad part of town," I kept a loaded shotgun in my studio. Just in case, don'tcha know. All sorts of weirdos were about. We were burgled three times in four months. I worked at home and was not particularly afraid - but after the OJ verdict, nothing was for sure. Times were uncertain.

Sweetie took me out to target shoot with his .45, c.1992, and after firing it once, I remarked that "That could really fuck somebody up." All I could think of was the violence of the explosion. I could never remember about the damn safety switch, either.

So. When I had my stalker, here in lovely Laconia, a man who was crazier and even more unpredictable that me, Sweetie got me mace. And a revolver, a little .32; a point-and-shoot type of gun. No safety switch involved. I also have a slingshot and a BB gun. Sweetie has his own rifles and stuff. Which he never shoots. We are not gun nuts. Really. And I know me some gun nuts. We are not them.

But I have been known to chase after dogs with the .32 when they have attacked my dogs, in my yard. To the four way in the middle of town. And I have gone after other dogs when they have chased local children. (Oh, call the law? Or the animal control? They tell me to shoot 'em! We are so advanced here.) Stalking to the 4-way with a revolver, in sight of the General Store?

Word gets around. That chick is crazee! Don't get her mad.

Today, after hearing about four dogs in my yard this morning chasing my bunnies, and then finding one in my barn hauling ass after a rabbit, well - I did what I felt was right. Grabbed the .32 and shot over its head as he came out of the barn. There was a mild to-do. I was called a bitch and someone said I shot the dog twice. Feh. If I had meant to hit it, I would have. I do have good aim.

It sucks ass.

I just wish the neighbors would, could keep their canines on their own property. These are the same ones that had the late pit bull. Oh, shoot a dog? We'll just get another two or three.

(Also, caught a tom cat today that was hungry and stalking little buns. I was able to catch it and have turned him over to our local rescue people.

Not everybody here is an asshole. But sometimes, it feels like it.)

So, it is not a bad thing to be known as a Crazy Lunatic. And a gun-wielding one, at that. Especially since Sweetie works the 3-to-11 shift.

Sigh.

call toll free

Just a reminder that I have another blog. Sort of interesting.

I love the "send Lawyers, guns and money" one on the way to Mauckport.

Serves four.

This is Monkey, who was borrowed to be the gentleman friend of Cleo, the daughter of Amy Winehouse, who lives next door. There shall be babies. Good Neighbor Nancy said she had to sleep in the living room, because of their shenanigans.




The outside bunnies are industrious. This is one hole of many.



Cut this much off my hair, and can't really tell the difference.




And, went to Corydon for lunch with Sweetie, who has the weekend off. Had the camera and captured this shot from the Real Enchilada #2.

href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEJ2vQx-Ti1_aomg1dHHKoFxpuczMwykt3RFP5s38aNjyJ50qg1vywx63QqIvRzuas_XVVRBDVnudyhI-4tfVpz9TYBDLcwO2ePT_rav1MOPFjxzZ0MIc-sqFoJffBCpov84o/s1600-h/3-28-09+downtown+corydon.jpg">

Use four times daily.

Buster just yesterday discovered where all the cheep cheep noise was located. His ears pricked up, he wanted to groom them, and then howled when he couldn't.



Poor Buster is deteriorating. Half the time, I have to help him onto the couch, where he lives 23 out of 24 hours. So, it was good to see him alert and interested in something.

This is what I have been working on in the studio. One-offs of Bunny & the Beast.



And I've had this on my desktop way too long, so I will post and then file it.



This is Frankie, who was an inside bunny last fall.

Great Benefits!

Hello!

Let me begin by saying that I seldom win anything. A twist contest in 1966, a newspaper coloring contest at about the same time, the towels at the Shakertown retreat in 2008.

So, only because nobody else entered her contest, I composed a short epitaph for Thoughts from an eclectic goth mind., and it was only because nobody else even tried,(!) I won. You guys, my three readers, go there!

And what a win! This beautiful black cotton, tatted choker with silver and other black bits! I will so wear this! I love it, and even Sweetie remarked on its coolness.




So please, go visit her site and add her to your feed! She posts almost every day, and is a sweet and interesting person. And talented in many ways. Tatting, bobbin lace, photography, calligraphy, and probably in numerous other ways too. She knits, even.

Now in 24-pack!

I rather like the concept.

Welcome to your fourth day.

Kill da Wabbit

Information virtually 24 hours a day.

Welcome to critter central! The bantams still number five and appear to be doing well. I chirp and cheep at them and now they recognize my voice. And associate it with food. We are researching housing for them, and I must give a shout out to YouTube videos. I don't have the link handy, but there is this way cute Aussie building a henhouse from scraps of tin and lumber that he has scrounged. Anyhoo.

The six white bunnies are now over 5 weeks old and spend daytime outside, much to their mom's relief.



The wee babies are well, but no pictures today.

Here is L'il Bit, with a torn ear. He is four months old, very small, definitely male, and apparently full of testosterone.



Because he lost a fight with Smokey, seen here with his new squeeze, Black Mama, who is one of the kits kept inside over the winter and recently released.

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L'il Bit is to stay indoors from now on, because Cinnamon disapproves.



My T shirt from Disapproving Rabbits arrived today. Funny site, go there.

Lastly, spring is here. These daffodils have been in bloom for over a week.

Not licensed for modification.

Like I need another thing in my life. I started another blog. One I have been thinking about for at least a month, because the winter-lit landscape here is so beautiful, and there are so many interesting sites on my drives. Really, this is a beautiful place to live and that is my consolation for having to living amongst idjits and dumb asses.

Go visit, please, and add me to your feed. I hope to post daily.

Intended for single use only.

I choke a chicken. haha



Behold, my feathered dinosaurs!



Five buff bantams. Straight run, which means that I will most likely be blessed with 5 roosters. Banty cocks.

Otherwise, bunnies!

Built tough.

I need to try to post more often. Time keeps on slippin', slippin' into the future.

Saturday was Friendship Spinners and we met in Frankfort. Haven't been since December and so enjoyed seeing everyone. The Woolery visit was good. Their storefront is in downtown, and I am so delighted that they have such great stuff. Maybe my stuff, but we'll have to wait and see about that.


Norma Jean made this, and though you cannot see it in my photo, the detail in Abe's face is astounding. I reckon he is about 12'' tall and she plans to needle felt a Mary Todd, too. She says she is getting a website soon and I hope so.



Sweetie spent that day with friends in Louisville, and here he is the morning after. Ain't he the cutest thang?




The big babies are all looking fine. I put them outside in a pen now that the weather is nice.

One bunny after another in Annabelle's litter scattered from the nest, and that is a death sentence in Lapin Land. The three survivors are being kept in a tall-sided container and get taken to mom to feed once or twice a day. Once they are able to better motivate on their own, I'll put them back with mom.

Mostly I have just been fiddle fartin' around, not seeming to get much accomplished. Divided some irises and day lilies yesterday, washed some laundry today, spent way too much time on the interwebs every day. Need to get the dyepots cooking, but the weather is so nice, finally, that I can't help but wander around outside to look at the daffydils and listen to the birds.

Follow the bouncing ball.

Oh, hi! Glad that you stopped in.

Last night, I did barn chores early. No particular reason, but the weather was nice and at 7:30, it was still light enough. Gotta get used to EDT at some point.

So. I have this rabbit named Annabelle, who was born from the union of Crazy Mama and Grumpy Daddy last June. She is a beauty, but not near as sweet tempered as her two brothers, Tutu and Zero. She must be one of the least friendly bunnies I have. I did want to breed her, however, because of her bloodline and so put her with Ginger four or five times over the last few months, much to her indignation. (Do you see where this is going already? Because I have written that Ginger is recently among the deceased.?) I thought that the act had never culminated in a happy end, because I watched, but even so, Ginger tried very hard. Humpity humpity humpity and hump.

Apparently Annabelle had received her gentleman caller after all, because last night I found her in the midst of delivering babies. Since I didn't realize she was bred, I didn't supply her with lots o' hay, but she sort of tried to make a nest with a few bits of her wool. I think she was taken aback by the ordeal, too. Long story short, there are 6 kits, 4 black and 2 white (maybe brownish) and all are safe inside our house.




Autumn and Leslie from next door heard about the kits and just had to hold them a minute! They are great kids.




And so, Ginger's and Percival's line live on, too. Yay.

Fun for the whole family!

Alas, what I have is not a real pussy willow. It is a cottonwood tree, but it has little grey and fuzzy buds that look extraordinarily like pussy willow branches, to which they are botanically related.



I enjoy what I do have - a lovely cottonwood tree. In my own back yard!

Too many bunnies are bunking in the living room, as attested to by the ceiling fan above them.





The outside baby bunnies, I am relieved to report, are surviving. They are not quite so skittish as in the past, since I released the three at the same time the babies were first venturing out. "The Big Guys aren't afraid of the Big Pink Thing that feeds us. We won't be too afraid either."

This is one of two little brown ones.



And there are three little black ones, too.

see pg. 87 for details - link fixed - I am a Dumas

A very cool version of Come Together. With Ukulele.

Dance around the house happy but has a sad bit at the end.

Satisfaction Guaranteed!

More than a handful anymore. This is Runt, aka JB (after a friend,) aka Tadpole (for his big head,) and one of the Anonymous Others.

I was quite pleased with the two days of work that Mr. Josh Handyman did for me, and I may hire/barter with him for other chores over the summer. I mow his girlfriend's yard, a few doors down, plus his mom's vacant property next door, so I have some capital to barter with.

I even have a new fiber blend, or rather, an old blend that is made new and renamed. No more the Lumpy Bunny, behold the Fuzzy Nuggets, an 80% angora, 20% merino batt the delivers a slightly textured and fuzzy yarn.

This Saturday is the Friendship Spinner's meeting, as well as a preview for us FS members to the new facilities of The Woolery, which has moved to Frankfort, Kentucky. I intend to take my Fuzzarelly Fibers for general sale to the guild, and might as well see if The Woolery is interested. Why not?

So.

I have been busy in the studio. Sweetie worked a funky weekend shift that left me thinking that today was Tuesday. Whew. Now that the weather is warmer, I don't stand at the carder and shiver anymore, and I hope to be more productive.

The Evul Kitteh has vanished, methinks into the jaws of a recently deceased pit bull. (So much drama here in a tiny little town.) And so there are 4 or 5 little outside bunnies surviving plus the three I kept inside. With the warmer weather and their goodly size, it was time.

800 pound capacity

I went to do the barn bunny chores a little late by today's clock and a little early by yesterday's clock. It was almost dark, twilight, with a full moon in the east and the evening star directly opposite in the western sky.

There are little frogs here in ponds, swamps, and wetlands that we simply call peepers. Usually somewhere in the end of February, they begin their love songs - eepcreepeepcreekcreepeepeepcreepcreekeepeepeep At first, it's only a few chirpy voices, and not all the time. If it gets cold again, they lay low, but as it warms and the daylight lengthens, a few voices become tens of thousands and they sing around the clock.

So I was in the barn about 8:15, being serenaded by all these little frogs and listening to the bunnies crunching their pellets. The moonlight shone through the window. And I realized that I could smell, so I breathed in the hay and manure aromas, and the hand lotion that Sweetie bought me in January.

The babies were three weeks old Saturday.



There were terrible storms all around us today, but nothing 'cept wind and a little rain here.

The sun came out. It was fabulous.



Oh, and we have a pussy willow tree! The ice broke this branch not entirely off but the grey fuzzies sprouted anyway. I haven't seen a wild pussy willow, or wussy pillow, in decades.



And the third and final free scarf pattern is in process.




I'm relatively happy.

Everything On Sale

The babies are growing!



Was it last year, or two years back, that I swore I was going to get a maid for my birthday? It never happened. This stuff in the house, I can and should take care of it. Even if I am a layabout.

One the other hand, projects outside these twelve walls are not of my purview. The asthma and allergies mostly preclude me from heavy work outside, yet I have a long mental list of the things I Want Done Out Side. Some items on the list are small, such as 'adjust awning at back door so the rain doesn't pour down one's neck as one exits.' Other items are much bigger, such as 'fix/mend or do-whatever-it-takes to entirely roof the shed.' Wind me up, and I can recite to-do projects for about an half hour.

These outside projects, these things on the Honey Do list, some of them have been mouldering in my brain for several years. And Sweetie does many tasks for me and the house, most everything I ask of him. But sometimes, he works awful long hours, and he can't get to everything. I love my Sweetie!

So I hired me a Handyman, as a present to myself for this 52nd birthday anniverserary. Sweetie and I just got our tax refund, and one has to make hay whilst the sun do shine. Two or three days of work done, a couple of hundred dollars (money-from-heaven) spent - I think that is a bargain and good for the economy, too.

This is Josh.



What got done today was the Great Compost Pile Relocation and Supplemental Addition Plan. aka GreCoPiLSAP.


The compost pile has been augmented but unmined for five years. Black Gold, it was. I arranged for all that great soil to be moved inside a wire corral for my little garden and I can even see it through the pantry window from the kitchen sink. I am planning on growing mostly tomatoes plus a little okra. Maybe one zucchini plant. I have a great recipe for canned tomato sauce, as well as a pickled okra one. I have learned not to be overly ambitious and so I think this will be just enough. A lot of people around here grow enough produce to feed small third world countries. I remember, too, that I may have tons of apples and asian pears again this year.



The newer bunny waste, having recently been tossed out the barn window, was moved to the compost pile,



and tomorrow the current rabbit poop will be cleaned from under the cages, and it will become the piles underneath the barn windows. The Great Circle of Poop. This is how I rock.

To paraphrase The Knitting Curmudgeon, A Handyman is a Rare and Handy Thing.

I was worried that Sweetie would exhibit some sort of Manly Growl about this, and so kept it my secret until Handyman actually arrived— but he was cool with the concept and delivery. Get a bunch of work done by someone else, pay some money, Fuzzarelly feels like Queen for a Day. It's a win-win situation.

I have formatted the second pattern that is offered as a freebie with the purchase of one ounce Fuzzarelly Fiber. I used NeoOffice, a free software download. Susan, I will forward to you my pattern for printout in pdf form.

Currently, I am working up the third and final free scarf pattern. I used a trick from Mary Thomas, (and generally known design principle,) to shift one half of the pattern upwards by half. It adds a positively dynamic aspect to a simple design.

Discard after 30 Days

So.

I am considering getting a couple of hens soon. I have never raised chickens, but has that ever stopped me from doing anything ever? Even though we are in the town limits, (those of you that know where I live can laugh now,) I don't think there should be a problem. As former clerk/treasurer, I know for a fact that there is no ordinance against livestock in "town." We have the space and a structure that can be made into a henhouse with small effort.

I say this knowing that I do not need another thing, another species, to take care of but really - how hard can it be?

Nurse Kelly bought 30 heritage breed chicks by mail a few years ago and she lives in what can be called ruburbia. Not quite rural, not quite suburbia. She knew about raising poultry and everything was fine until the chicks grew up. Now, some were lost to predators or whatever, but of the 18 or so that grew to adulthood, 12 were roosters. Even that was okay with this Nebraska raised farm girl, until the roosters all decided to commence crowing at about 3 am.

They were beautiful. Silkies and Tophatters, and other colorful breeds that I can't remember the names of right now, and the hens laid eggs that were small but delicious. But Nurse Kelly's husband finally said that the roosters Had To Go. You know, before the neighbors cooked them for supper. She brought them to me for overnight keeping until I could deliver them to another friend and so I now know that I don't want more than one rooster and even better, no roosters at all. Sweetie does like to sleep in, ya know, working second shift and all that.

But wouldn't a couple of chickens be cool? I'd be happy with a couple of guinea fowl.

Oh, my brothers, if you are reading this, you will remember the Fourth of July festivities on the square in our hometown. About three o'clock in the afternoon, maybe ten guinea fowl would be released from the clock tower of the courthouse. You catch it, it's yours. Our parents wisely forbade us attempting any capture. I think that event is probably not done anymore, in these here modern times.

As an aside, as a youngster of maybe 8 or 9, I won the twist dance contest in the bandstand on the square. My prize was a Kennedy Silver Dollar. (A Silver Half-Dollar?)