Spring Has Sprung!

Thought for the day:  The other day when I was walking through the woods, I saw a rabbit standing in front of a candle making shadows of people on a tree.  [Stephen Wright]

It's that time of year again. As I type this, it's March 20, the first official day of spring. HA! As if the calendar meant diddly squat to Mother Nature. I can tell you, without doubt, spring unofficially blustered into Georgia weeks ago.

Record high temperatures in the mid-eighties.

And wipe your eyes and blow your noses ...record high pollen counts coming atchoo, too. Yesterday hit a staggering 8164 particles per cubic meter of air, which tops the previous record by more than 2000. Believe me, that's nothing to sneeze at. So to speak.

Yep, it's deja-choo all over again. Atlanta is a beautiful place in the springtime, as long as you don't mind shoveling pollen and chewing every breath you take. Ah well. On a Claritan day, you can see forever. And on the bright side, I'm expecting the crime rate to plummet. Everybody's too busy sneezing to be bothered with criminal activites. And this is just the beginning. The calendar says so.

A couple weekends ago, my husband and I spent the day with our son and his family in Alabama. My daughter-in-law decided she wants to get each of the children a baby rabbit, so my hubby and son spent the day making a huge cage for them.

"Four rabbits?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," my DIL replied. "Three for the big kids, and one for me. When Devyn gets a little older, the fourth one will be hers."

"You planning on putting partitions in that cage?" I asked. "Y'know, to keep four from turning into forty?"

"Oh, no," my sweet naive DIL said. "We'll just get them all the same sex."

It isn't easy to differentiate baby bunny gender, but we'll see how well that turns out. As for me, I'm pollen for a happy outcome.

Okay, no more deja-choo or pollen nonsense, but how about a little deja-vu? Thinking about our grandkids and their soon-to-be pet rabbits reminded me of a post I wrote last April, entitled Lessons From a Killer Rabbit. I decided to toss it atchoo (sorry ... last time, I promise) again for those of you (most of you) who missed it the first time around:


Thought for the day:  The Energizer Bunny was arrested. He was charged with battery,

Got an early wake-up call of the wild this morning.



You're nobody 'til somebody loves you.

 It was a woodpecker,  imitating a miniature jack hammer on the tree outside our bedroom window. His serenade only lasted for about fifteen minutes, but his presence reminded me of another wacky woodpecker who spent the entire summer here some years back. In fact, he was here so much we gave him a name. We called him Clem.

Now, I've been told that male woodpeckers pound out their jazzy rhythms in the early hours of the morning in order to attract a mate. Don't know it that's entirely true or not, but let's say that it is. And if it is, poor old Clem was sorrowfully unlucky in love.

Because he didn't just show up and rat-a-tat for fifteen minutes just before the sun came up. Oh, no. Clem was an industious and rather desperate suitor, and showed up several hours before daybreak, and rat-a-tatted his heart out for one or two hours every morning. On trees. On the gutters. On a fiberglass canoe. If it wasn't moving, our little visitor took a whack at it. If nothing else, he was persistent. But, alas,  I don't think he ever found love. He eventually stopped coming around, but  I fear the crumpled zig-zag beak he must have had held little appeal for the fairer sex.

Back to this morning. After the woodpecker finished his drum solo, the cats took over. If you have cats, I'm sure you're familiar with the routine. There's the piling-on game, the nose-rubbing and purring-in-your-ear game, the patty-cake game, and let us not forget the rousing round of king of the mountain, where you, of course, are the mountain. All designed, of course, to get their staff out of bed and into the kitchen.

I took all of this as an omen that it was time to write another blog about lessons I've learned from our pets. We've already talked a little bit about cats in the past, and about fish, but today, we're going to talk about rabbits.

Let me preface the lessons learned with a lesson of a different kind, a history lesson. About Jimmy Carter and the killer rabbit.

In 1979, President Jimmy Carter went fishing in Plains, Georgia. While out in his row boat, enjoying a peaceful respite from the White House, his serenity was shattered by a rabbit and a pack of dogs. The dogs were doing what dogs do. They were chasing the rabbit. But this rabbit didn't do what one would expect a rabbit to do. This rabbit jumped into the water, hissing and gnashing its teeth, and swam towards the president's boat. Though the president said he didn't have any experience with out-of-control animals, he successfully shooed it away by splashing water at it with a paddle. As you can imagine, if you don't already remember the incident, the media had a field day. "President Attacked by Killer Rabbit" was a common headline around the country. Late night comics took the story and ran with it, and poor President Carter became a laughing stock. If you do a google search now, you can actually find pictures of the rabbit, and of President Carter shooing it away from his boat, but they weren't made available at the time. But I, for one, didn't need to see any pictures to believe the president's story, because I'm pretty sure we ended up with the spawn of that killer rabbit.

My daughter had a pet rabbit. It was a precious little bit of fur with a tiny pink nose when we first brought it home, but here are some of the lessons we learned from owning that rabbit:

• Precious little bits of fur with tiny pink noses grow up to be big fat rabbits. With sharp claws.
• All big fat rabbits do is eat and generate a big fat ton of hoodles.
• Little girls don't like to clean up hoodles.
• I don't like to clean them up, either.
• Rabbits don't like you to put halters and leashes on them.
• Rabbits have very sharp claws.
• Once the halter and leash are attached, rabbits are lousy at taking walks. They hop. Very leisurely. Because they have to eat every green thing in sight. And, of course, drop hoodles.
• Rabbits don't like you to take halters and leashes off of them.
• Did I mention they have very sharp claws?
• If he ever hopped away from home, (no such luck!) we would have been able to find him quite easily. Hansel and Gretel had nothing on him. He could leave a steady two-mile trail of turds.
• Here's the funny part. The mountain of rabbit poop that critter generated was useless as fertilizer.

I don't remember what our daughter called that rabbit. Something cutesie like Fluffy. But after a few weeks of shoveling his poop, I started calling him Hoodles, and that stuck. Oh, and on second thought, maybe he wasn't related to President Carter's rabbit, after all. When we tossed him into the lake, he didn't swim.

Just kidding. We ended up donating him to the Yellow River Game Ranch, where he lived out the rest of his life with a bunch of other rabbits, eating, generating hoodles, and ... um... multiplying.


Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. Oh, and I know some people have rabbits that make wonderful pets. My sister-in-law had one. Ours, however,  wasn't the cuddly type. And I might have mentioned? He had very sharp claws.

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I hope you enjoyed the re-run. For some reason, the song Doing What Comes Naturally is running through my head. Maybe because rabbits typically do a LOT of what comes naturally? Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe our grandchildren's bunnies will be all the same sex. Or maybe doing  it won't be so natural to them at all.

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Rainy Days and Mondays

Thought for the day: Why didn't Noah swat those damned mosquitos when he had the chance?

Yup, it's still raining.

In fact, it's rained so hard, that gritty yellow-green car that's been sitting in our driveway got a decent cleaning, and whattayaknow? Found my little red car under all that pollen.

I know. Once the rain stops, the pollen will be back with a vengeance, but for now, the world is shiny and bright and new again. (On a Claritin day, you can see forever.)

When the cats aren't stomping on the keyboard or posing in front of the monitor, they're curled up nearby. Nothing new. Seems like they're always either taking a nap, looking for a place to take a nap, or just waking up from one. On this dreary rainy day, though, their curled-up contentment reflects and magnifies my own sense of well-being. I swear, they're the perfect poster girls for being tucked safely in the house on a wet chilly day. Looking at them makes me want to purr. Or take a nap.

But I like the rain. Yeah, we're getting close to the full mark now, but still. I like it. The way the air smells, the way it makes nature turn a brighter green, the way it sounds dancing on our metal roof. I like to walk in it, too, but hate umbrellas. Have a couple yellow fisherman's hats, and they suit me just dandy. Love to take long lazy rides in the rain, as long as I'm not the one behind the steering wheel. Love the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers, and looking at the world refracted through the wet windows.

I even love thunder and lightning, and the fiercer, the better. Don't wanta be out there dodging lightning strikes, but love being the silent observer, watching from the safety of the house. Best storm ever was at a crabhouse in Maryland, right on the water. The wind whipped the patio furniture every which way, and the water was so choppy, it looked like it was boiling. Lightning reflected in the water. Awesome.

Yeah, it's still raining. But if I build an ark, I think I'll go with something a little more stylish. Maybe something like this. Neon's such a nice touch, dontcha think?










Ok, enough yammering about the rain.

There's something much more important to report. I'm lost. Doomed. Doomed, I tell you! I've discovered the attraction of Twitter, damn it. After all the disparaging remarks I've made about it, too. I did not know. I shot off my mouth, but I did not know. There are some really NEAT people out there tweeting. Smart people, funny people, professionals in the news world, in the literary world, in the world of science and technology, and probably in a kazillion other worlds I haven't yet discovered.

And ya know what? It's much easier to be clever in 140 characters or less than it is in a blog post. Go figure.

OK, so I've succumbed to the allure of blogging and tweeting. But I absolutely refuse to get sucked into online game-playing. Then, I'd be a goner for sure.

Ooooh, the sun is shining. Time to go look for a rainbow.

Found mine. Hope your day is filled with them, too. Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.


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Deja Choo All Over Again

Thought for the day: A truly happy person is someone who enjoys the scenery on a long detour.

Just heard from a friend in Detroit that they got some more snow. My mother-in-law told me they haven't had any new snow in Baltimore, but there's still plenty piles of it scattered around. Bet it isn't exactly pristine, either. I remember well how Baltimore's dingy exhaust-blackened slush used to linger way beyond its welcome every winter, and how eagerly everyone watched for the first crocus.

Here, in the deep south,  it's about time to pull out the snow shovels, too, but it ain't for snow. The daffodils are in bloom, azaleas are about to bust out in all their glory, and trees are on the brink of unfurling their leaves. That can only mean one thing : P-O-L-L-E-N.

I'm talking about pollen like you've never SEEN before, people! Pollen that coats everything in sight with a thick yellow-green layer of grit, that swirls through the air and scurries down the street when the wind blows, that clings mercilessly to the inside of every nostril and throat.

I am not exaggerating. The air gets so thick with pollen, you don't so much inhale it as chew it. 

Ah(choo!), but you have to take the bad with the good, right? What's watery eyes, relentless sneezing, and hacking up a lung every now and then compared to the incredible beauty of springtime in the south? Dogwood trees, azaleas, and daffodils abound. Red bud trees and tulips everywhere. It's breathtaking, both literally and figuratively.

Many years ago, I read a description of two letters. One woman's letter was filled with nothing but praise for the town she lived in. She said the people were friendly, the area was beautiful, and there was an endless number of wonderful things to do. The other letter was full of misery. That writer hated the town. Said the people were ignorant snobs, and there was absolutely nothing to see and nothing to do. The funny thing was, they were talking about the same town.

Attitude. It's all about attitude, isn't it? Most of the time, a positive attitude leads to a positive experience.  Bloom where you're planted. That's how the old saying goes, and there's a lot of truth to it. OK, so I'll quit bellyaching about the pollen, slap on a surgical mask, and go breathe in some of the beauty. Might even rake up some of those (expletive deleted) gum balls. (Still working on loving those things ...)

Oh, and by the way, writers, there's something encouraging for us in this tale of one town and two opposing attitudes, too. Just because one (or fifty) agents reject the offer to represent wonderful you doesn't mean there isn't someone out there who'd "love your town" and would jump at the chance. So, keep on working, and never, never, ever give up.

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