Miles Post

Miles walked into the kitchen with this rag on his head and announced, "I'm Jesus." (in an innocent, soft voice. Not in a crazed, fundamentalist visionary voice).

Then he requested, "Take my pitchya!"

I chuckled to myself as he wandered away, satisfied (or so I thought).

He returned a few moments later, now en-shawled thusly:

He looked at me expectantly.

Me: Who are you now?

Miles: God.

"This is a man with a gun..."(*)

The week after babysitting the bunnies, they were old enough to leave their mamma.  Karren was offering them for free to anyone with a hutch and proper supplies.  Chicken coop ... check.   Rampant weeds, i.e. food ... check.   Irresistible lop-eared baby bunny love ... check.  It was meant to be.

But when Sydney asked if we could adopt one, I hmm'd and hawed ... stewing (mmm!)... over the matter.

One mustn't let on that rabbits can be had for the asking.  Rookie mistake.  Next thing you know, the young childrens will be disappointed because you aren't eager about opening up a Home for Misplaced Snakes.  The wise parent must play their cards just right and make it seem like they are granting the wish only after serious, prolonged deliberation. We're not opening a PetSmart, here.

After an appropriate time delay (approx. three minutes), we told the kids they could adopt one of the bunnies. They all wanted "The Runt" -- which they pronounced, "The Rent."  Also known as Julia.

Although, we don't know Julia's gender.  She could be a Julian.

The kids worked hard to update the chicken coop's interior design. They wanted to make it spiffy for Julia.  Besides painting, they installed a working hammock (an old bird house), baskets, a welcome mat of edible greens, a ramp, cinderblock cubbies to hide in, granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.  Julia(n) would not be wanting for anything in the luxury apartment category.

The coop, that is -- hutch -- is in the back corner of the yard, behind the hot tub gazebo.  What was once an unused and neglected section of the yard, is now visited multiple times a day.   The edible landscaping (i.e. weeds) is receding into the distance as the kids forage for treats for Julia.

The kids check on her in the morning and first thing home from school.  A  kid will jump up after dinner and say, "I'm going to check on Julia."  Then the others will pipe up, "Me, too" and follow.  The house is much more peaceful.

Generally speaking.  Except for this one time, Julia had been with us all of 12 hours when Sydney came running, hysterical, into the house.  "Julia's missing!"

Julia in her hammock before she ate all the greenery ... and executed her escape plan.

  It turns out bunnies possess the same ability of red blood cells:  diapedesis.  It's the fancy way to describe how a RBC can squeeze through a capillary wall.  It was described to me in college as amazing as if a human being squoze under a door (it was a biology class, not English).  Julia looks larger than the spacing of the chicken wire.  But do not be fooled.  Diapedesis, kids.

Hey, Miles! Get back to work!!

Anyway, back to the story.

So we trooped out to investigate, and found Julia calmly munching on grass.


We watched her for awhile, mesmerized, before scooping her up.  Being tame, she was easily fooled.

And that is the end of the story for today.  Stay tuned for more rabbit tales  (or foots. ... hey, ... that stew ...)....

The Foreman.

The mini foreman.

 *Previous Post

Babysitting Bunnies

The Wilde's let us babysit their rabbits while they were on vacation.   We were thinking about adopting one of the baby bunnies, so it was a good trial run for us, too.  The kids LOVED it.  They were outside more than they've been all year, watching the rabbits, feeding them, ... reading to them.  The video file was too big to upload here, but it catches Clara, as above ... educating the rabbits about their cousins Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail.

Childhood

We Built This City ...

Fire pit dinner

Talmage was cramming in his last few achievements to earn his Wolf a few weeks ago -- one of which was planning and cooking an outdoor meal.  My memory of this goal, from my mom's glory den mother years, was the meal had to involve an empty tuna can or bacon grease, an egg, and a paper sack on a stick.

Talmage got away with hamburgers and hotdogs and s'mores.

No one was complaining.

Concentrating on the perfect marshmallow:

Perfection.

Sensory Table

Shaving cream as art.

Like in the olden days

One day these kids will have their own bedrooms.  I wonder if they'll miss "back in the day" when they all slept in the same room.   As you can see, the "bedtime routine" is very quiet and orderly.