Elvis has left the building

If, by Elvis, we mean chickens.
For the first time in a long time, there's nobody in here but us humans*.
The last of the chicks moved outside today, since they're all grown up and feathered out. We'll have a couple of weeks of peace and quiet, then the cycle will start again when we take delivery on the next batch of peepers.

It's quiet.
Too quiet.


*Well, there's one little Siamese Betta fish, but he's pretty low-profile.

Because Karma has to balance

After all the sadness we've had lately, today was a day of joy.
Because this happened -

Um, I mean, this -

Let's try one more, without the wind...

I knew you could do it, Sweetie. You chose a hard path, you rose to the challenge, and your spirit carried you through.
Makes a mother proud.

Brokenhearted

We lost our little bunny. He was fine last night - playful, bouncy, cuddly. This morning he was dead.
When we first brought our little orphans inside and started researching how to hand-raise them, we noticed a lot of the experts said "Don't bother. They're all going to die anyway."
But, being us, we had to try.
Losing this last one is hard.

Not creepy at all

These are for Lindsay, who thinks my bunny is creepy...

Not creepy - just really hard to photograph. (S/he usually wiggles just as the camera clicks. I've got a lot of blurry bunny pics.) At least the eyes aren't glowing red in these photos.

Madman has taken to calling the little bunny Hopper. Though Tiggywinkle's comment on my last post had me laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes.

Sourdough, Milestones, and Great Balls of Fiber

The other day, when Madman picked me up from work, he asked me "Do you know someone named Erika who would mail you a lumpy envelope?"
"Why, yes," I replied. "Yes, I do."
Erika and I had been emailing back and forth about bread, and she offered to send me some leftover sourdough starter. Dehydrated sourdough starter makes for a lumpy envelope...
So I've got the Son of Makoto. Or, more properly, the little brother of Makoto.
It's been happily bubbling on my counter for days and days. I fed it up good last night, and used it to make this
today. I meant to take a picture of it before cutting into it, but, well, you know...
(And btw, Erika? I cheated and added a tiny bit of dry yeast to the dough, which is why I got such a good rise. Next time, I won't, I swear.) (Really.) (Patience? What patience?)

Hey, look! Little bunny is now eating rabbit pellets! And hay!
*sniff* They grow up so fast...

This is actually a major milestone. We're both breathing a sigh of relief, because it looks like the little booger is really going to make it. After all our recent losses, I don't think we could bear to lose this little sweetie. We've gotten way too attached.
The word "houserabbit" is now in play.
Though a New Zealand White isn't the best choice for a pet rabbit (there are friendlier breeds), at this point this little one is more acclimated to people than other rabbits. We'll have to wait and see as it gets bigger.
I've done weirder things than keep a rabbit in my house.


And last, but certainly not least, I've been washing up and carding a storm of fleece.

I started with Goldie's fleece. Now, to look at her, she looks like your average sheepy-colored sheep. You know, that basic off-white creamy sort of color. Imagine my surprise when I started working with her fleece - it's laced with dark gray and black fibers. The roving is coming out a light heathery gray, which I'm liking a lot.


I've made that little mountain of roving, plus I have twice as much washed and drying. And I still haven't made much of a dent in the fleece.
Do you think she'll be okay with me wearing a sweater made from her fleece? Or is that going to boggle her little sheepy brain?

Sigh of relief

Madman and I were watching a tv show on the computer tonight (Supernatural, if you're interested. Catching up on the last couple of episodes.) when I noticed he had fallen asleep. Since it was time for Little Bunny's late night feeding, I paused the video, went to mix up the formula, grabbed a towel, and headed into the spare room to get the bunny out of its box.
No bunny.
I thought it might have burrowed under the towel in the box, so I pulled everything out of the box (water dish, pellet dish, hay - Bunny is old enough now to start investigating grownup food, so we're making it available. So far, he/she hasn't figured out what all that weird stuff is, but we're patient.) and searched through all the folds of the towel.
No bunny.
I pulled the towel completely out of the box.
No bunny.
The search began. Under the bed, under the dresser, behind the pumpkins. (It's a multi-purpose spare room...)
No bunny.
I widened the search. The guest bathroom. The hallway. The kitchen.
No bunny.
Finally, I headed back to the living room to wake up Madman so he could help in the search.
Look what I saw in the crook of his elbow.


Both of them, fast asleep on the couch.
*sigh*

Rain of Death

This whole Circle of Life thing can just stop any time. First something got into the hatchlings' chicken tractor, and killed three of them. Then we lost 4 more of the baby bunnies. Then, this morning, there were gaping holes in the chicken wire of the hatchlings' tractor, and the last two were gone.That's 4 rabbits and 5 chicks in a week's time. It's all just heartbreaking. The hatchlings were the 5 that survived the first hatch in our incubator, the ones we cheered for as they broke out of their tiny prisons. The bunnies were poor little orphans that we desperately tried to feed and keep alive, against all odds.

We almost lost the last bunny as well. It started to decline, right before our eyes. We'd been listening to the experts, and went from infant formula to kitten formula. The bunnies continued to weaken and die.
Finally, as the last one was getting lethargic and losing interest in eating, as the others had before him, I said to hell with this, and went back to the infant formula.
He started to perk back up. (Or she. I don't know if you can tell the difference at this age. We certainly can't tell the difference at this age.)
Back to perky, to our huge relief.
He/she/it enjoys a good run on the carpet. (Not so fond of vinyl flooring...)

Sort of a Bunny of the Baskervilles look in that photo.

If you hold out your hand, he/she/it will jump in.

After all we've been through with this little guy/girl, we're keeping it. So far, we're just calling it 'Bunny' or 'Bun' - we should probably go ahead and give it a name.
Like, Scamper, maybe.

Excuse me. I have to go catch a little bunny.