At Least There's Ice Cream

I wasn't very productive at The Asylum today. Not that I'm ever a nominee for employee of the week, but I usually manage to accomplish something.

I think the problem started over the weekend. Due to a sudden lack of hours at the jammie job (I worked five last week) I've gotten a crap load of house work done.

Until Sunday.

First, the light blew in the kitchen, which kinda skeeved me out 'cuz I'm on season four of Supernatural and that's how all the freaky shit usually starts.

I'm still kinda jumpy being here by myself at night. I should probably watch Oprah or something instead, but anywho...

The bunnies were hopping around the house, stretching their legs and trying to take over my bed. I was gathering up trash to be taken out by The Amazon when she got home and heard a weird noise in the living room.

Did you know that bunnies LOVE to dig? They especially love the big, fluffy, white pieces of litter in their box. With the help of the ceiling fan, the living room floor looked like the Bunny Slope at Aspen. As I swept up THAT mess, I noticed that Reginald's front feet were awfully dark and dirty. Apparently they enjoy digging in cold fireplace ashes as well. He found the old pot on the corner of the hearth and went crazy in it.

I decided it was time to put the bunns back in their pen, leaving the ashes on the floor until I was done. I came back in just in time to find Kitty, who's box had been in need of attention for a day or two (yes, I am ashamed) squatting to pee in the ashes. On the floor.

In the meantime...

I'd been doing laundry all day. As the last load reached the rinse cycle, I heard a gurgling in my bathroom. Water was filling the shower (there's no tub) and out into the floor. Before I could get to the washer to turn it off, there was a half inch murky, icky backwash running across the floor and down in to the vent.

I finally said effit and went to bed.

I got up to take a shower the next morning. My bath rug was soaked and musty smelling. Kitty decided it would be okay to pee on that while I fixed my hair.

Later that day, I spent my lunch break taking the trash to the dump because the bags never made it to the curb Monday morning. Then, after work I drove to the grocery store because we were out of everything and I had to wait for payday to go... so yeah.

I wasn't worth a shit today. I probably won't be for the rest of the night either.

At least there's ice cream (it's okay, it's sugar free.)

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Of Bunny Fluff, Shady Pines and Trying to Get it Together

Kitteh Kitteh Two By Four

Lawd have mercy. It's Friday.. we made it.

It's been a wacky week in Mahalaville. Luckily there's been a lull in hours at the jammie job, giving me a chance to catch my breath. I say luckily until I get my check.. but anywho...

I sold two bags of "Little Bunny Poo-Poo" and an ounce of Angora fiber, which is awesome. Sparkles and Peppermint Patty were totally grossed out but they'll get over it. I told Sparkles that it simply proves that I am a marketing genius.

So then yesterday I got a call from Shady Pines saying they were going to sit Ma out on the curb if they didn't get a check and I was all like.. "oh shit" because I've not paid the bill in some months.

Not because of the money, it was just sitting there in Ma's checking account. I just hadn't thought about it.

I've been having problems keeping up with things lately. Let's just say I'm behind.. on life.

Today I did manage to mail my federal and state taxes (finally,) the order for bunny fluff and a check to Shady Pines. I've almost got my truck payment caught back up from the whole brake line brouhaha and my bedroom is starting to look a little more "Victorian-Gypsy-Shabby Chic" and a little less "Extreme Hoarders-Special Report with Diane Sawyer".

Maybe I'll get my shit together.. eventually.

I'm looking forward to the weekend. I have to hit the road early tomorrow and head to the weirdo eye doc to pick up my new glasses. My prescription didn't change from last year, but I took some old frames to have some computer specs made. My bifocals are about as useful as a chicken with a chainsaw when I'm working either job.

After I pick up my specs, I'm going to run by the nail salon, try NOT to stop and coo over baby chicks and ducklings at the farm supply place and head home for a fun filled weekend of housework and laundry.

It's an exciting life I lead here in the holler. I can't hardly stand it.

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

Bunzillas in the Mist.

Cicero: A Hot Mess
This is what an ungroomed English Angora with a bad hair cut cuz his bother peed on him looks like. 

The bunnies will be a year old in April, I've had them six months now. Prior to coming to live in the holler with the other assorted critters, the brothers spent most, if not all, of their time in a small wire cage housed in the corner of the barn, under another wire cage containing a ginormo hussy of a Flemish Giant. The woman we bought them from seemed nice enough and I'm sure she loved her critters, but I don't think they got much one on one time. 

The first time The Amazon cradled sweet little Reginald in her arms, he growled at her. Bunny growls are serious business. And kind of cute.

I know they'd never been combed out before. The bunny lady clipped them down pretty close before we picked them up that night, after we took the scenic route in the wrong direction through the hillbilly back country. 

I made the decision to get angora bunnies after seeing their fluff for sale on Etsy. I didn't get bunnies just for that purpose, but I thought it would be neat to produce fiber. I entertained the thought of learning to spin it myself, before I took on the second job and suddenly found myself having to schedule pee time in to my evening shifts. The Amazon bought one of those spinny spindley hickies, but she's not been home much to do much artsy fartsy craft crap.

Anywho, the last six months I've been tackling the combined challenge of making friends with, as T.A. calls them, "The Sirs," while also trying to get them used to being manhandled, combed, brushed and snuggled against their will. 

I watched a lot of online videos on rabbit grooming, horrified by the number of them which suggested HOG TYING the little critters, stretched out like they're on a BBQ spit. 

Oh hell to the no. I don't think so.

I have to admit, they still don't exactly volunteer to be picked up. I think that's just a rabbit thing. I bring them in on the weekends and they have the run of the house. I put their blanket down with a litter box and they chase Yoda around. I watch close to make sure everyone plays nice, but I'm not too worried. I think the cat is afraid of them and Sammy doesn't care about anything as long as it lets him sleep. They kind of hang around wherever I am, as long as I don't make any sudden moves or act like I'm going for the comb. 

The angora boys are completely different from Lola the lop who used to hop in my lap and try to steal my banana every morning at breakfast and who used to go flip out and tear around the RV without warning like she was on crack. Reginald and Cicero kinda lumber around, occasionally chasing each other and trying to get their hump on. 

They are bunnies. 

I'd given up on ever having a cuddly, love bunny relationship with The Sirs. They just weren't in to it and seemed content to lay around the floor offering little or no interaction with me. 

But this weekend, there was a glimmer of hope.

First, I was combing Reginald on the bed so I could watch Netflix while I worked. The satellite is temporarily non-functioning. T.V. didn't make the priority bill list this month. 

Anyhooter, I have to stop a lot when I'm combing Reginald because if I don't he turns in to a teeth grinding wiggle worm. I'm sure there's another term for it, but I just think he's a brat and doesn't like to sit still for very long. I was letting him take a break and hop around on the bed when he found a spot under the ceiling fan and sprawled out like Al Bundy. 

It was a particularly warm weekend. 

After a while I finished combing him and set him down in the floor while I went in search of his brother. Upon my return to the bedroom, I discovered Reginald back on the bed, having reclaimed his turf and resumed his "I am male, this spot is mine, don't make me pee on it" position. Sammy, the Boston Baked Beagle had moved to the grooming blanket, demanding that his five hairs be brushed, so I did his hair up a little while Reginald lounged and Cicero waited patiently under my left arm. 

I was amazed that Reginald was not only content to grace me with his presence, but did so voluntarily.

It was a bunny breakthrough. I felt like Jane Goodall.. you know.. the gorilla lady. 

BUT THEN...

After both buns had their hair did, I took them back to the living room and plopped them down on their blanket while I returned to the bedroom to watch a movie about a bounty hunter. I wasn't too concerned, I can sorta see into the living room from the bed and all the other animals were piled up there with me. After a few minutes I heard the muffled thump of bunny feet coming down the hall. I peeked through the doorway and saw Cicero easing towards the bedroom. 

"I see you sneaking up on me Sissyboy."

He turned and hauled bunny butt back to the living room. A minute or so later, I heard him again. I looked out into the hallway and watched him come closer.

"I seeeeee youuuu Cicero."

Again, he turned and hopped back to the kitchen.

When I heard his approach the third time, I decided to ignore him and see what he'd do. I watched him out of the corner of my eye and saw that this time, he'd brought reinforcements. Reginald was bringing up the rear. They hopped towards my doorway, Cicero hopping a couple of feet then stopping, watching me. I pretended I didn't see them, he inched closer. I waited, he came all the way up to the edge of the carpet. I peeked around the door at him. 

"I seeeee youu."

He turned and hopped down the hall like a giggling toddler. At least, that's how I heard it in my head. 

The bunnies were playing with me. They kept it up for a while. It was like when you start playing fetch with a ball obsessed dog and later regret it when they won't let you stop. 

IT'S LIKE I'M THE WABBIT WHISPERER.

And this? This is what happens when you go without sex for too long. You become an old woman playing with her bunnies on Sunday afternoon and it's the COOLEST THING in your life at that moment. 

There are worse ways to end up I guess. 

Ya'll take care, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!!