Chicken Blog

Meet Joe Rabbit

Joe is about 6 years old, so that makes him 99 in kid years.


A bunny's tongue is pink and rarely seen.


Joe's face, up close, is my favorite. His mouth and nose never stop moving. Maria likes to impersonate Joe.


Maybe petting Joe is my favorite.


Right behind his ears, around the nape of his bunny neck, he is particularly soft.


He won't sit still for long, though he's calm enough when he is sitting in someone's lap.


When he's done sitting, he likes to dig. He digs until he clears a patch of bare earth and then suddenly...


...he flips!


And he lies in the bare earth spot.


And he bathes his face, which is a very cute bunny activity.


Max loves Joe.


Maria loves Joe. She loves him like a baby doll and wants to cover him and tuck him in. "Night-night Joe. There you go."


Joe seems to like being tucked in.


Max and Maria like playing in Joe's bunny run.


They can visit with him and he can run and jump, thump and dig, nibble and doze.


Everyone loves Joe.

Bath supplies...


When Maria is going to take a bath, I have learned that it is very helpful to bring supplies. She loves her bath and she can't be bothered to entertain me the whole time. So, after she's scrubbed and had her hair lathered and rinsed, then she wants to be free to explore the depths of her personal water world... not unattended, but alone.

I bring the phone. Geoff may call and remind me to fax tax info a.s.a.p., or Angelina could be trying to reach me, looking for pearls of wisdom on raising four children, while her husband is away on assignment.

I bring a mini project, like my knitting lesson, mail to sort, a nail file and clippers, so I can tame my ragged claws, and today... pen, pencil, eraser and Rosie, my Rhode Island Red. Always dabbling in something. Jack-up all trades and master of none. I want to draw more gooder (more better?) My two weak areas (self analysis, you may find more, I'm sure) are haste and lack of skill/experience.


I tried to force myself to go very slooowly on Rosie's face... there are so many details on a hen's head.


Then Maria started splashing quite vigorously, and she even hurled a bowl of water at poor Benjamin. He may not visit her bath again anytime soon. I shouldn't have let it make me anxious, but I did rush through the feathers. After bath time, dressing Maria, soaking up spills, and faxing taxes, I took a look at the color print I was inspired by and realized that I missed a great deal of feather detail that was not evident in the black and white photocopy I had in the bathroom. Sigh.


Dare I color it?
Or, I could clean house, which is necessary, very necessary and yet utterly unappealing. It's just so pointless and futile. Max suggests a big, big picnic at the beach. If we leave the house, then at least it can't get any dirtier.