Cabol

The bunnies are shedding again. Maybe the weather is confusing them? I can't think of any other good reason to shed in the middle of winter. Every morning for the last week or two, I've been spending five minutes or so brushing Hop and Wibble. In the morning, when they are totally distracted by their kibble, is the only time I can get these two to stand still to be brushed. Carla, however, lets me brush her much more easily, so I usually go after her in the evening. Right now, Wibble is the worst. If you blow a puff of air at him, a cloud floats up off his back and flies away. Hop seems to have started her shedding up by her shoulders and is working her way back. It looks like she is wearing an inverted saddle because she is shorter where the fur has already left.

Carla is still definitely the most friendly of our bunnies, and when it's her turn to be out and about she often hops up on the couch for a snuggle. Recently she got to snuggle with Larry, who seemed a bit confused.



In other furry creature news, Buddy and Little Kitty seem to be doing better since we moved to the new place. They don't fight nearly as much, LK doesn't hide anymore, and the pee presents have slowed down. (Alas, they still do arrive.) Here's a picture of Buddy snuggling in a box of paper recycling.



It's so much harder to recycle here without ye old curbside recycling pick up. Glass (clear only!), plastic, and metal go a few miles over to Smith's but paper has to go to work with me. There is a place in Floyd that collects cardboard, and Smith's will take newspaper, but what about all that junk mail? Well, I guess there is the recycle drop off place in Floyd, but it never seems to be open when we aren't at work or asleep. I guess most folks out here either just trash the paper or burn it.

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The last few nights we've made bread in the bread machine to have nice fresh bread for sandwiches for lunch. Last night, Andy was the lucky baker. During a commercial break in "House," Andy jumped up to take the bread out. The smell was wonderful, and we were both salivating over that first slice of hot bread with butter.

Now, the thing with bread makers is that making bread in them is sort of a gamble. If you don't measure things quite right or if the humidity is wonky or if the moon is in the wrong phase, the bread won't turn out. It will only rise half way or it will rise so high it pushes the lid open. Sometimes the crust is too done or maybe it's still a bit mooshy on top. I know I always get a bit nervous when I approach the machine after it beeps completion.

Last night as I sat on the couch under a pile of kitties, I heard Andy in the kitchen say in a sad voice, "The bread didn't turn out. It's flat and dense." I was sad, too, but I figured it'd be salvagable enough to get a pair of sandwiches out of it. But then Andy kept talking, "It appears that...umm...I forgot to add a sort of key ingredient."

My laughter tossed the kitties off my lap and onto the floor. I laughed and laughed. I told him to take a picture, but he pouted and said no. The poor, yeastless bread was indeed a sad sight at about one inch tall.

I suggested we could cut thin slices off and use them as crackers, but I'm not sure if we have an appropriate hacksaw blade. Instead, I think maybe we'll feed it to the chickens. I don't think the ducks could handle it with their rounded bills.

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When Andy's son, Kenny, was only a couple of years old our friend Kim lived with us for a while and spent some time with him. I don't remember exactly how it came about, but she decided to call him Fred. Sometimes he was okay with the name, and other times he'd stomp a foot and scrunch up his face and wave his arms and bellow, "My name's not Fred! It's Kenny!" Alas, he doesn't seem to remember this anymore.

Fred came for a visit over the holidays for his first stay at Loafkeeper Farm. His first morning we put him to work. He fed chickens...



...and fed sheep...



...and found a neat leaf and ice sculpture...which wasn't really work but makes a neat picture.



We also did some improvements on the house and got satellite tv.



After all the work was done, we went out to explore one of the local sights, the Dixie Caverns (and campground! and antique mall!) The place was a bit worn and reminded me a little of the cowboy and indian tourist traps out West, but the caves were well taken care of and the tour guide rocked. I wore my glow-in-the-dark alien shirt just in case the lights went out.

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