The Truth About Bunnies - Busting The Myths

It's around this time of year Peter Cottontail loads up his Easter basket and takes to the bunny trial. I know this because Twisk auditioned for his job one year and lost on a technicality (Peter thought his ruby red eyes were more suited to Christmas than Easter.) Anyway, this is also the time of year people start looking for rabbits to put in their children's Easter baskets. The goal of the Make Mine Chocolate campaign is convince people to choose any kind of bunny but a live one. 

Having a little experience with bunnies I thought I would put in my two cents in support of the campaign by dispelling a few myths surrounding them.

Myth #1 Bunnies are cuddly

This can be true, but isn't usually. Bunnies love to be petted, yes, but being held is a different story. Consider the fact that rabbits are prey animals. Any action that grabs them and lifts them into the air (picking them up to put them on your lap or in your arms, for example) is reminiscent of being picked up to be carried off and eaten. They automatically - genetically - are afraid of this. Most of them will tolerate this behavior in us and some of them will learn to trust us enough that they overcome their natural fear and enjoy being held, and some are just bold enough not to mind as much. But the majority of rabbits will not learn to like it. They will simply endure it and be relieved when you return them to their pen or cage. (Whereupon, having reached the safety of their home, they will want you to pet them.) 

Myth #2 Bunnies are sweet.

Well, this one is true but it doesn't presuppose that bunnies can also be pretty vicious. I submit to you Exhibit A)

St. John

My arm after it met St. John's teeth.

This cute little guy is St. John (Sinjun.) This was the first (bad) bite he gave me but it wasn't the worst. The worst one nearly sent me to the emergency room for stitches because he tried very hard to help me commit bunny-assisted suicide. After that I brought him to Dr. Bruce to be neutered in the hopes of not having to put him down. He gave me still another scar for my collection later but has since - finally - calmed down enough to enjoy petting and not try to kill me most days.

Yes, the truth is bunnies bite. Having been bitten - numerous times - by bunnies I can tell you with authority that if a bunny bites you the severity of the bite will tell you what kind it was: a warning, a reminder, a forceful objection, or an outright attack. Warnings and reminders are bunny's way of telling you something important like "You're trespassing," "I'm done," "Get out of my space," "You're hurting me," or, "Not today, I don't feel like it." They don't break the skin usually and they don't really hurt but they don't tickle either. If you ignore these love nips you'll likely get something harder and more damaging. Something that will cause bruising and bloodletting. 

Bunnies are often possessive of their space. Putting your hand into their cage or enclosure, even if you're only trying to fill their food bowl will likely make them growl and sometimes lunge at you. These are usually just warnings but if you persist in messing about in their space you'd better be wearing gloves. I've learned not to take bunny grumpies personally - it's how they communicate. But I also don't trespass without being respectful either. 

Myth #3 Bunnies are pocket pets.

Before I had bunnies the idea of taking one to the vet was ... I admit it ...absurd. Little did I know that owning rabbits would put me on such friendly terms with my vet. Lucky for me he's a really nice guy but exotic animal vets, particularly ones who  know a lot about rabbits, are difficult to find. Rabbits are subject to a host of ailments from colic to colds to injuries. If treated most are surmountable but if left untreated rabbits quickly die. I have used more of  my nursing skills treating rabbits than I ever did as a licensed nurse. Fergal is my only special needs rabbit but he requires ten times as much care as the others. I have to grind his pellets three times a day. Often I have to feed him with a syringe, give him injections or other meds, give him fluids through a sub-q line, and bring him back and forth to the vet every month to have his teeth trimmed. Even with the support of my wonderful vet taking care of Fergal is costly both monetarily and emotionally. Bunnies require every bit as much time, energy, and money as pets like cats and dogs. Sometimes more. 

All rabbits should be neutered, which is costly. Males who haven't been neutered are given to spraying those they love - that's you hopefully. Yes, I said spraying. With pee. 'Nough said?

Myth #4 Bunnies are children's pets.

For all the reasons I've already listed bunnies are not great pets for kids. Two of the bunnies I currently care for were a child's cast-off. The reason? They weren't cuddly. Also, because bunnies are prey animals they are very good at hiding illness and injury. It takes an observant adult to realize when a bunny is ill and needs medical attention. Otherwise bunny goes quickly from just fine to dead. As in, "Honestly, he was just fine a couple days ago and now he'd dead."

However, bunnies make excellent pets for adults who enjoy quiet companions with subtle rather than demanding personalities. When neutered they take quite well to litter box training, they are amusing to watch, challenging to completely understand, and let's face it, are the cutest animals on the planet. They won't want to be your buddy, like a dog. Or make you serve them, like a cat. They'll simply keep you company, amuse you, and lower your blood pressure by letting you pet them copiously.

I love bunnies and I can't imagine my life without them. It's for that reason I dearly hope that you'll consider the ramifications of bestowing that fluffy, trusting little life to a child this Easter. Consider making your Easter bunny chocolate this year. Or, if you want something cuddly, here are three bunnies up for adoption:

To learn more about Wilson, or to adopt him go here.

To learn more about Newton, or to adopt him go here.

To learn more about Millie, or to adopt her go here.

For more information about the Make Mine Chocolate campaign go here.
If you've gotten through all that and you're still thinking about a bunny this is an excellent post about what to expect and so forth. 

And The Winner Is . . .

Hamish resting after the exertion of choosing a winner.

Drumroll please!

Beth Major!!

Congratulations! Hamish plucked your name. We think we might have hit on the perfect system. I put the names in his FOOD bowl and he knows paper shouldn't be in there so he starts picking them out one at a time and ta-da! A winner is chosen. Email me your address so I can fill in the gift subscription form. You can send it to: reindeerstationfarm@gmail.com

Thank you all for playing. If you haven't signed up for our other giveaway, hop on over and you could win a cute little Easter bunny with a Cadbury chocolate secret inside. Go here to enter.

Folk Magazine Giveaway

Yes, you read that right. Just call me the Giveaway Queen. Or not. Maybe that doesn't sound so good. Starting over . . . next up in the recent rash of giveaways (hey, you can't say I didn't come back into Blogville without a bang) the awesome folks at Folk Magazine have authorized me to give away a free subscription to Folk Magazine! If you haven't seen digital images of the magazine yet better sit down and brew a cup of tea before you go visit here because otherwise you'll be kicking yourself. You'll definitely want to take your time and savor the experience. They have the most GORGEOUS images. Total eye candy. I just want to cuddle the lamb in the new Spring issue in the worst way. Check out the blog too while you're there.

Anyway, Folk Magazine is on a mission "to bring back America and to promote bloggers, artisans, makers, doers, creators, and the every day people that make America so great." I must say, they're off to an awfully good start. The only peeve I have with them so far is that they give me way too much to love. So, to enter this giveaway all you have to do is go visit the site, poke around, and then leave a comment telling me what you think of the magazine and/or if anything caught your eye. That's all. But do it soon. This one ends Sunday, March 10 when we're all trying to recover from springing ahead and losing that extra precious hour of sleep.

And if you don't win (or you just can't wait) you can take 50% off your subscription compliments of the good people at Folk by going here and entering the code #FOLK. Let them know I sent you please.

Hamish is going to get whiplash choosing all these winners. (Have you entered to win the Easter bunny filled with Cadbury yet? You can find that one here.)

May the odds ever be in your favor!

And The Winner Is . . . And a Bonus (Bun-us?)

Okay, so I have no idea how to edit this video. You'll have to take it blurbs and all. I took four in all. They were variations on this one...me chasing Hamish around with a tin lid full of names and Hamish flinging it or digging at it or growling at me because I was starting to annoy him. And...you guessed it...just the absolute second he FINALLY snatched one out of the tin and I cried "You did it!" the camera battery gave up the ghost. I was hoping it had caught it at the very end before it died, but alas, nothing. But I thought you'd like to see Hamish anyway. And you'll have to agree that he did try very hard.

There were 15 entries altogether. I apologize that I made it difficult to actually find the correct post to "like" by continually posting reminders. To make up for the confusion I scrolled through all my notices and collected all the names. So while there were only 10 official entries, I put in the five people who accidentally "liked" the wrong post. If you didn't win, I'm sorry! But I'll do another one soon. AND if you didn't win you have another chance to win something. See below. Would you believe all the entrants were women? (Men, what's the matter with you? Don't you know Mother's Day is coming???)

And the winner is . . .






Drum roll . . .







Scroll down a little further . . . the suspense is killing me . . .





Alison Valdes! Send me your address Alison so I can mail your prize out to you. Congratulations and thanks, everyone, for playing!! Now for the bonus part. If you can tell me the name of the song playing in the background of the video (you don't even have to tell me the group singing it) LEAVE A COMMENT ON THIS POST with the name and if you get it right I'll enter your name in a drawing to win this sweet little guy:

He's holding a surprise:

Can you tell what it is???? Ready? Name that tune . . .

I'll give you one hint . . . it's Hamish's favorite song. Contest ends March 25 so I have time to mail the prize before Easter.

Walking Wounded

This is Agatha, the worst of of yesterday's walking wounded. See her ace bandage poking out from beneath her wing? She seems to kind of like it, which is good because she needs it. She's got deep puncture wounds on either side of her sternum and her tail is half chewed off. I was afraid of what I might find when I took off yesterday's bandages but her wounds look good (you know, for wounds.) She's dozing here but a few seconds after I snapped this shot Max (my German Shepherd) walked across her field of vision behind me and her eyes snapped open. All the girls are on house arrest until we figure out how to manage the fox threat. 

Fiber Retreat! Come One, Come All!

OK, I've officially got BIG NEWS! I've been asked to be the presenter at the Fibers of Faith Retreat at Singing Hills Christian Conference Center. This retreat is going to be awesome! I know because I'm planning a lot of it. I mean, seriously, if you're into fiber what could possibly be better than going to a lovely location and doing nothing but playing, praying, and praising??? If you throw in a couple of bunnies you've pretty much got my idea of heaven.

If you want to curl up in a corner and do nothing but beaver away on a sweater or lace shawl you can certainly do that, but if you want to play with me here are a few of the toys I'll be bringing with me and demoing on:

Carding: I'll have my Fancy Kitty drum carder and I'll show you how to make fancy-schmancy art batts that you can then . . .

Drop Spinning: . . . use to spin some yarn on a drop spindle. It's easy; I'll show you how! Or . . .

Spinning: . . . on a real wheel. I'll be bringing my workhorse wheel, a Kromski Sonata as well as the wheel I spin a lot of my angora on which is probably the most standard wheel since your mother was a pup, an Ashford Traditional. I'll teach traditional spinning techniques as well as demoing a couple of art yarns, probably corespinning and tailspinning. If you want you can use the yarn you make during the . . .

Scarflette Class: . . . during which we'll be making something that's a cross between a scarf and a yarn necklace. Bring your leftover ends from home and/or dig through my stash and/or use the yarn you make during the demos or off-time. There's a $5 materials charge for this class.

Weaving: My 4-harness Dorset loom will also be at the retreat and I'll give a short demo and open it up to anyone who wants to give it a try. The loom will stay set up throughout the retreat so if you don't get a chance to try your hand during the demo time you can play with it whenever you have some free time.

Needle Felting: I'll show you how to make a simple sculptural form and we'll also work on a group project throughout the retreat.

All of my equipment will be available for playing with and practicing on throughout the retreat and I'm happy to answer any questions, or demonstrate any skill I possess (except tap dancing) even if it's not part of the stated curriculum.

I know this is already beyond amazing, but wait! There's more! I'll also be vending on Friday and maybe Sunday morning. I'm planning to bring with me: yarn, stitch markers, art batts, buttons, and roving. Retreat guests will receive a coupon code when they sign up. When you get this code you can get 10% off in my Etsy shop online and free delivery to the retreat if you want to pick it up there. Anyone who purchases something from me during the retreat (Etsy pre-sales count!) will be entered into a drawing to win the scarflette I'll bring as a demo! The art batt I make for the carding demo will also be given away in a random drawing to any participants in the demo.

But wait! There's more! Do you like fiddle music? In the evenings, when you're relaxing, quietly chatting or working on your projects I'll be sitting in a corner providing live entertainment on my fiddle.

And . . . I've been asked to lead out during the praise sings. I'm in the process of choosing songs right now.

So . . . . . . . . . . .  come one, come all! Let's play, and relax, and laugh, and sing, and praise, and pray together for 4 days. Give yourself the gift of some "me" time. Fill your own well so you can go back to your life filled with new ideas, skills, and projects that excite you. To sign up go here. If you register before March 1st you get $10 off!!

Fox Attack

I was standing by the kitchen sink fixing Fergal's food when I saw something, a lot of somethings, drift across the meadow.

"What is that? Ashes?"
"Leaves," Rob said.
"From where?"
"Dunno."
"They don't look like leaves."

A little while later he came in the house. "That stuff in the meadow is chicken feathers. Lots of them."

We couldn't figure out what on earth it was at first. There were feathers from different chickens all over the place. Brown ones, red ones, gray ones. Piles of them. Like the Grim Reaper had danced around the farm butchering. But strangely, no blood.

We found a lot of chewed up hens which I spent the morning doctoring and two dead ones, carried off down the hill by a fox which Rob saw and chased off. We are wondering if there were two of them. How could one fox do so much damage in such short time? Rob said he heard the girls squawking this morning but didn't think anything of it at the time.

I don't know how many of the injured ones will live. One was so bad I had to wrap her in an ace bandage. A couple appear to be in shock. I put stress vitamins in their water and I'm about to make them a stodge of oatmeal, yogurt, and other nourishing things.

I hate to walk outside and see the feathers drift by. They're everywhere.

Belated 4 Year Anniversary Giveaway!

I don’t know about you but giveaways are starting to have so many hoops to jump through that it’s almost not worth the effort. So I thought to celebrate the four years my fiber studio and farm have existed I’d have a simple giveaway.

In order to enter all you have to do is “like” this post on our Spindrift Studio at Reindeer Station Farm page on Facebook. That’s it! You can only enter once, but you can share the love by sharing the post. You get a chance to win these fabulous dryer balls and I get some exposure for my studio/farm. It’s a win-win! If you do decide to share, THANK YOU! Believe me, in this age of information overload I know what I’m asking. While you're on our FB page "like" it if you haven't already. Pretty soon I'll be doing FB-Only specials and goodies.

On March 1, Hamish will choose a winner. I hope it's youuuuuuuuuu!!

Can you believe it was four years ago that I sat spinning some nasty 10-year-old wool by my wood stove, longing for sheep and bunnies? (I never even dreamed as high as an alpaca and llama!) I am in fiber nirvana and I am fully aware of that and appreciate it every day, I truly do. Even when it’s 20-below outside I enjoy taking care of my animals, making sure everyone is as warm as they can be and has food and water. I love watching their fiber grow - okay, so maybe it’s more along the lines of lusting than looking but if you could see how beautiful it is as it grows you’d lust after it too.

Four years ago I didn’t even know where my studio was headed beyond writing. As I look ahead I see more writing. Hopefully not the kind with truly killer deadlines because I’m beginning to realize that it takes me away too much and too often from my own life. (Exciting news on that front very soon.) There will also be teaching because I love to teach. (News soon - hopefully later today - about a fiber retreat I’ll be teaching at. Come play with me!) There will be art of all kinds because I can’t seem to limit myself to a single medium. (And why should I?) There will be sales of vintage finds because I can’t help carting home with me items that I know have beauty and life in them beyond what others see. There will be bunny hugging because, honestly, what’s a Monday (or a Tuesday, or a Wednesday) without a bunny hug? And there will be sparkle because it makes me happy. Good times ahead. I hope you’ll join me.

So, about the giveaway. You’ll get three felted wool dryer balls and this snazzy bag to keep them in when you’re not using them. It’s plenty big in case you get, or make, more. Keep reading for a description and may the odds ever be in your favor.

“What Are Felted Wool Dryer Balls – And Why Do You Want Them? 

Instead of loading your laundry – that soft, precious fabric that touches your skin every day – with stinky chemicals that are in dryer sheets, these felted wool dryer balls will do the same job in less time. 

In a nutshell: The wool soaks up some of the moisture in your laundry as it dries, but then evenly distributes it into the air – helping your dryer stay humid longer, which exponentially reduces static cling. In addition, this “soaking and releasing” action makes your clothes dry faster. And all of these things together mean fewer wrinkles. And if you sprinkle a few drops of essential oil on them before using you’ll scent your laundry too. 

Best of all, they’ll last up to 5 years. That’s 5 years without having to worry a single bit about static, dryer sheets, wrinkles, buying supplies, and failed presidential debates (you shouldn’t ever worry about that last thing, anyway).” ~ Crunchy Betty

(This is where I learned how to make them, but I actually adapted her process because I wanted mine to be heavier and denser than what this process would produce. I both needle and nuno felted mine. But if you don’t win - or you simply fall so in love with these you want more and want to make them yourself - there you go. If you want some nice, dense ones like mine, or you don’t want to make your own, I’ll have more up in the shop. If you make them Betty’s way you can make quite a lot in a short time. Mine take a lot longer. But I’m biased; I like mine better.)

On The Bobbin

From today's photo shoot. Art yarn I started this morning. Merino/tencel with cocoons of sari silk and angelina. Oh my.

Play Well With Others

Hear Ye, Hear Ye . . .

 . . . if you have tried to make a comment on this blog in the last year or so you've probably been prevented, or had to jump through hoops to do it. That's because I got very rudely flamed over some pictures I posted of puppets my son made. It was very upsetting to both him and me. He hadn't even particularly wanted me to post them so he was doubly wronged when they were criticized for not being "Christian" when they weren't meant to be particularly Christian. They were his own imaginings.

I didn't make a big deal about it at the time. My mother taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say you should keep your mouth shut. Apparently I learned that lesson better than my flamers did. I only mention it now because the blog is gearing up to be a little more active and I've changed the comment setting.  I'll be moderating comments but unless the flamers return all comments should post. So please feel free to comment, just also remember to play well with others.

I was so upset and hurt I removed the offending pictures at the time but I don't plan to remove anything further. This blog is about my art and my books and my animals and my life. I'm a Christian. I won't apologize for that - either for being one or for not meeting someone's expectations of what they think a Christian should be. I may mention God in this blog. I may not. If you want to know my thoughts on God, or Christianity and being a Christian, please feel free to ask me, or read one of the 17 books I've written so far on the subject, or one of the thousands of articles and stories I've published. I don't intend to use this space for proselytizing but if my beliefs show I won't apologize for that either. Take me or leave me but please refrain from flaming me. It ruins a perfectly good day.

So, with that said, let the games begin! On Wednesday, only one month late (!), I'm going to post the anniversary giveaway so be sure to check back for that. Also, FB only and Blog only goodies will start soon so be sure you are a follower of both the blog and the studio/farm page on Facebook. To do that go here. I won't be cross-posting goodies. I'm looking for 1,000 FB followers and then I'm having a really awesome giveaway. And I mean REALLY awesome. Don't miss out on the fun!!

That Sheep Will be The Death of Me Yet

Brontë's got it in for me. One day you'll find me face down in the pasture with just one small cloven hoof print on my back.

Brontë is my Icelandic sheep. She's really more like a goat with wool. She's the most inquisitive, the most pushy, and the most adventurous of all the sheep. When I brought her little self home as a lamb (and when I say lamb let's just be clear that she wasn't all that little at the time - see above) she leaped out of the back of my trusty RAV4 and clocked me under the chin with the top of her hard little head almost knocking out all my teeth. (And so started the migraines I suffer from today.)

I'm not positive it was her, mind you, but the other day I was walking ahead of the sheep with extra hay to put into the mangers and going through the gate someone flattened me from behind. I went down like a ton of bricks and all I saw was a blurry sheep face. But when I gingerly picked myself up off the ice there were only two sheep in the pen: Siobhán and Brontë. And Siobhán is too much of a lady to flatten me.

So there you have it. Accident? I think not. I was lame for a couple days but no permanent damage. This time. Yesterday, after I put the animals into the pasture Brontë walked back to the gate and stood looking up at me (it's sort of a Brontë pose . . . as you can see) as if to shoot the breeze for awhile, maybe inquire after my injuries, assess the damage, survey her handiwork. She assured herself I was still mobile, seemed satisfied, and returned to the flock with a gleam in her eye. Plotting, I imagine, for her next opportunity.

Time to Milk The Almonds

My favorite milk = water, almonds, Vitamix.
Almond milk hot chocolate: almond milk + maple syrup + cocoa = Mmmmmmmm.

Inventory - To Dye or Not to Dye, That is The Question

Working on inventory today to take with me to the upcoming fiber retreat where I'll be teaching and vending. (More details about that later.) This is 140 yards of smooshy fibery lusciousness made from a combination of mohair and angora. I love everything about the character of this yarn. When I get a few skeins done I'm going to dye some and see what happens. What color would you dye this yarn???

One Thing is Clear . . .

 . . . I need more cast iron pots. It's -2 and supper is started. On the woodstove. In the dutch oven we have what will be chicken soup (for the carnivores in the family. I think I'll have kelp noodles today), in the garlic roaster we have garlic. Roasting. For the garlic and asiago rolls, and in the front pot we have blueberries for the blueberry pie because I just found out it's national pie day and we should really take time to celebrate these kinds of things. Shouldn't we? What kind of pie are you having today?

Better Late Than Never?

So this is me, or it would be if I ever had a chance to sit down for five seconds. My life was supposed to get easier and slower once I finished the book I was writing. Except that I forgot to take into account that the State of Vermont wants my Sales and Use Tax this week and because I was so busy writing the book I didn't record a single receipt, check, etc. So essentially I have to prepare my taxes like NOW instead of getting to wait until April like everyone else in order to get them the information - and money - they want.

Sooooooo.....I have a giveaway to do but I don't have time even to take pictures for it. And I wanted to do it yesterday. Because yesterday was a very important day. It marked the 4th year Reindeer Station Farm has been in existence. At least as an idea. On this day (yesterday) 4 years ago I sat spinning by my wood stove on a drop spindle with some 10 year old wool. It was nasty stuff, but I fell in love and decided I wanted my own sheep. The rest is history. But we're here and every day I get to play with my animals (or at least feed them and take care of them.) And that's a big accomplishment for me. Making art with their fiber is just a bonus (but a really great one.)

Bear with me, I AM trying. I have such big news (someone is coming to a fiber retreat near you, hint, hint.) Awesome new projects (scrimshaw even!) Cutie pix of animals. Wisdom from Hamish. News about Fergal. A new site to launch. But right now I am wrestling with deadline dragons. Hopefully I will vanquish them soon. I could use the break.

Merry (Belated) Christmas from Reindeer Station Farm

Hamish had some big bunny slippers to fill to do this year's promotional photo shoot but he bunnied up and was a sport about it. He was actually a bit of a natural although I heard him complain that the whole process was just one step above breading. Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year from all the critters here at Reindeer Station Farm. Best wishes for health, happiness, and creativity in the year(s) to come!

Mama Céleste's Cure For Feeling Puny

When I edited Listen Magazine, our art director, Bill Kirstein, used to call having a cold "feeling puny." Since this is the time of year when many of us are feeling "puny" I thought I'd share my cure: Garlic Soup. I just made some of this for my MIL who is sick and it smelled so good I made another batch for my own lunch. I'm not feeling puny but it doesn't hurt to be prepared. Whopping cough is going around these parts. This recipe is pretty flexible. Add what you want and take out what you don't like. But the part that needs to stay the same is you use an entire head of garlic. You heard me. Man up. A whole head. Tip: to make it easier to peel the garlic, put the head of garlic in a towel. Gather it up so you have the garlic contained in the bottom as if you're carrying it in a bag and thump it on the counter a few times. That will peel some of the cloves for you and loosen up the skin on the others. You're welcome. So here you go . . . not only will this scare away cold germs but no one else will want to be around you either so don't indulge before a date.

Garlic Soup

2 cups of water

1 head of garlic, cloves sliced into this rounds

Chunk of vegetable bouillon the size of a pea

1 Tbs nutritional yeast

Generous pinch of sea salt

1 tsp - 1 Tbs red pepper flakes (optional but great)

1 scallion, chopped (optional but also nice)

Noodles from one packet of Ramen (optional but if you're squeamish about the garlic or want more of a meal soup rather than a broth these are nice. Discard the flavor packet. Or use a different kind of noodle.)

1 Tbs miso (any kind)

Boil everything but the noodles and miso until the garlic is tender. Add more water if you need to. Add noodles and cook until done. Remove from heat and add miso. Ta-da! Run, run, little cold germs. The garlic is coming to get you. Bwahaha . . .

In other news I'm struggling to get my life back under control after turning in the book the day before the deadline (yay!). There should soon be news of animals and new projects and Etsy listings (yay!). But please bear with me; I've been letting everything not essential slide while I worked on the book and it's going to take me awhile to whip it back into shape. An important event is happening in 12 days though . . . do you remember what? Am crossing my fingers for a sale or giveaway or some such to celebrate.

* Bowl by Patty Herzfeld (it's my favorite!) http://www.herzfeldstudios.com/patty.php

Saving Peter Rabbit

Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail

Peter, of course.

Awwww, aren't they the cutest little things? 

Guess who's come to visit at Reindeer Station Farm? Here's a hint . . . 

Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter. They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree.

Actually, I'm not sure where they lived. I think it was a field. And Mother Rabbit had an accident so one of the girls who works at my vet's took these little guys in and has been raising them. Only, she was going on vacation and needed a bunny-sitter. Which is how I happen to be surviving on only two hours of sleep at a stretch at the moment so this will be brief. Beatrix Potter never mentioned that Peter was the runt of the litter and has special needs. But he lives up to his namesake by being a bit of a loner. You can usually find the others cuddled up together, but you've got to go hunting for Peter. I'll try to post some more pictures as they grow a little. I think they will be here for about a week. 

Interesting, barely related tidbit my exhausted, sleep deprived brain has just spit up . . . my first bunny ever was a wild rabbit someone tamed. It kept escaping to come visit our bunnies so finally my parents just kept her. I called her Honey Bunny (I'm much more original nowadays.) I loved that rabbit.

The Cute and The Fluffy

This is Tarquin. Yes, there is a rabbit under all the cuteness. I know, I know, he looks a bit like Twisk. It's been a great comfort to me though the reason he's here is very sad. Tarquin and Grainne (Graw-nya) a red French Angora doe came to live on the farm because their owner passed away. Tarkie is a sweetie who lets me cuddle him like a baby . . . remind you of anyone??? Grainne is his exact opposite. I have to wear gloves and move fast when I need to get in her cage. She attacks me and has bitten me several times though with the gloves she can't do much damage. All that rigorous training St. John has given me in bite avoidance maneuvers is coming in handy. That's precisely why Grainne is here . . . her owner wanted her cared for by someone with experience, who would know how to handle her. That's probably the first time I've had a reason to be glad about St. John's disposition. On the positive side, did I say she was red? Grainne makes Reindeer Station Farm officially patriotic, the home of red, white, and blue rabbits! There may be a yarn in that, a three-ply red, white, and blue yarn. Hmmmm . . . will have to give that some thought.

Next time . . . even more cuteness. I have finally gotten close enough to the fawns to snap pix of them together. They are up and romping around the meadow. The UPS man wanted to know if I was raising deer. Well, this is ReinDEER Station Farm . . . But that will have to wait until next time, when I can see straight. I have been writing all day trying to catch up on my quota which was derailed for a bit by Tarquin and Grainne. And even later I may explore some Beatrix Potter art which I have been gorging on like a starved wildebeest. If I do not find time to sit down and play with my paints soon I shall not be responsible for my actions.

This will not surprise anyone who knows me, but incidentally their names weren't Tarquin and Grainne when they came here. They were called Christopher Robin and Pepper. Which got me to thinking . . . there's not a beast on the place who has their original name unless they were born here. And when I finish writing my current book I think I'll hold a contest to see if anyone out there can match everyone's original name with the name I gave them. Gotta think of some awesome prizes . . .

I Found Some Words

I just wanted to say thanks to all the folks who have expressed their sympathy in the loss of Twisk. Everyone has been so nice, but I know a lot of people who've seen my swollen eyes today wonder what on earth could be so upsetting about losing a rabbit, especially since I have a bunch of them. So I'd like to take a minute to correct the perception of rabbits as pets. In the process I'll get to talk about what made Twisk so special which is about all I can think about today anyway.

Twisk was special, first of all, because he was born here. He was the only Reindeer Station Farm bunny and so he was the face of the farm. Because he was born here I've held him since he was hours old and you could tell the difference because he trusted me completely and I could hold him in silly positions and he didn't mind. I held him so much, in fact, that he was the last of the babies to learn how to hop. Rob finally told me to put him down so he could practice. The funny thing was that I never liked ruby-eyed white rabbits but when I was looking for pictures it was pretty obvious I held him more than all the other babies.

I didn't plan to keep any of Poppet's babies but even though I had a chance to sell Twisk I wouldn't do it. Raising him and his siblings was one of the best experiences of my life. I cried when the others left and swore I was done raising rabbits because it was too hard to let them go. I couldn't do that again. But Twisk stayed and was more like a pet than the other rabbits (except Fergal) and he came upstairs every night to hop around. He and Fergal (and Rachel's bunny Finnoula) were the house bunnies.

People think rabbits have no personality but that's not true. They just have subtle personalities. Twisk had a toy basket and he would play ball or move his toys around if you played with him. Sometimes he'd do it on his own. He loved to yank the slinky around. But his favorite game was Naughty Bunny. He was only allowed in certain parts of the house and he made it his mission to go explore the parts where he wasn't supposed to be. He had an uncanny knack of knowing when a door had been left open and whenever I'd find him somewhere he wasn't supposed to be I'd say, "Naughty bunny!" and "chase" him back down the hall. He'd always act like a kid caught red-handed and he'd tear down the hall, his little bunny slippers kicking up behind him. Some bunnies like to play chase and some don't; Twisk loved it. Lately the front door would get left open sometimes and we started to catch him venturing further and further out of the house. One day I was talking to Rob out by his truck and I noticed something white halfway up the driveway. Wondering what on earth it was I turned to look and saw Twisk. He wasn't in a hurry to go back inside either. He loved to explore. I buried him under the apple tree which is about as far as he ever made it.

Date night will be the hardest. We always watch a movie and Twisk would jump up on the couch with me and drape the front half of his body over me so I could pet him. He loved to cuddle. He was the only rabbit I've ever seen who loved to be held like a baby. Most rabbits don't like the vulnerability of that position. Twisk would actually fall asleep like that. Eventually he'd wake up like all the hounds of hell were on his tail and want to get down.

His first Easter the movie Hop had come out and the bunny on it (played by Twisk in his second movie role; his first was Alice in Wonderland with Johnny Depp) could poop jelly beans. So on Easter Rob set Twisk in the middle of a pile of jelly beans and then brought me over to show me what he'd "done." This was his second Easter playing the Easter bunny. He would have been two in September.

Fergal and Finnoula will really miss him too. He spent half his night hanging out with each of them, stretched out next to their cages. Every night when I gave Finnoula her supper and a papaya tablet I'd put one in my lips and Twisk would give me a "kiss" to get it. I got such a kick out of his papaya kisses that he always got two. I'm going to really miss that.

Those are just a few of the things that made Twisk special and why he leaves such a hole in our lives.