In memory of...

Mr. Peter Cottontail didn't make it. We found him in the nest, but he was gone. Kat thought he was sleeping, and I think he was probably alive in the morning, but had died by evening time. I really hoped he would make it. I'm guessing that he died of exposure, or shock, or internal injuries, or maybe starvation. If Mom refused to feed him after his little excursion because he smelled like dog, or something strange, well, that would do it. They aren't weaned yet, and need their mama.

Miss Kat was heartbroken. Have to admit that I was to. I'm a softie for babies of any sort...well, not baby snakes. ick. But, this bunny had the cutest coloring and I really wanted it to make it. Sometimes, having animals is hard.

Luckily, the remaining 5 are healthy and bouncing all over the place now. No, I still haven't taken pictures. We had a band concert last night and then planted a tree, so no time for pictures.

The neat aspect about the band concert was that the 6th and 7th graders from Greensburg came over and played with the Bucklin kids. The second neat aspect as that it was over by 7:30! (That was Kev's favorite part.) Our band teacher teaches band for both school systems, and they sounded really good! I wonder if we'll have to drive over to Greensburg sometime for a band concert...once they get their school rebuilt that is. (Remember, Greensburg is the community that was wiped out by a tornado last year. Believe me, there is still NOTHING there. A very few houses, but there's NOTHING there.)

Anyway, we had the concert last night, then Kev and I worked on planting our Apple tree. It was very root bound, and we wanted to get it into the ground. We decided to just remove one of the trees that didn't make it through the winter and put the apple tree in it's spot.

Easier said than done. The tree was dead, but the trunk was still pretty tough and it had pretty good roots and the idiots who planted it left it in the wire basket it came in, so the roots had grown out of that basket and we had to work hard to get it dug out. I used the tractor to push and pull on the tree. We did finally get it, but I almost rolled the tractor once. Scared me half to death! I was using the bucket and let the rear wheels come up, and it was tipping too. We got it back on the ground OK, and I was much more careful after that. We got the tree out, but then had to get that root filled wire basket out. That was the more difficult part. But, it's out, and the apple tree is in. Maybe we'll live here long enough to get apples off this tree...

So, see, I was way too busy to take pictures.

baby bunnies

Miss Kat's rabbit, Romeo had 6 babies. I thought there were 7, but either I miss-counted, or one died and she disposed of the body. They are a little over 2 weeks old now and actually look like rabbits instead of naked mice with big ears. We've held a couple of them the last few days, as they are starting to get out of the nesting box and jump around the cage. On Sunday morning, Miss Kat and I moved the family into the bigger cage so they would have more room to move around.

Last night, we were all standing outside on the porch watching it sprinkle. Andy was cooking supper (burgers and fries), so we were staying out of his way. Kev was watching Emily, the lab, and saw her pick up something from the ground, then she put it back down. It was white. He said, "Is that a rabbit?"

I didn't think it could be, but then thought that maybe the cats had gotten a hold of one of the babies. So, we decided we'd better investigate.

It was a rabbit. One of our babies. It was alive! Unharmed, except for a nick off one ear. It was very wet and very cold and very scared. So, Kat and I took it back to the shop and found an old sock of Kev's. We put the bunny in the sock to dry it off, and Kat held and cuddled it, drying it off until it seemed pretty dry and more alert. While she was taking care of the baby, Kev and I were trying to figure out what happened.

We decided that the cage's walls would be easy for a little rabbit to squeeze out of. And, we guessed that the baby got out of the cage and then basically got lost. So, I got some cardboard boxes, and we jerry-rigged lining the cage walls with cardboard, hoping it will stay in place long enough for the babies to get too big to squeeze out. I hope it will work, because the rabbits share the shed with the kittens, who like to play under the rabbit cages and would probably love to play with baby bunnies. (They loved playing with the little bull snake their mommy brought home Sunday afternoon, so bunnies might be even more fun!)

Once I was done rigging this up, Kat put the baby back into the nest with his siblings. All snuggled down for a nap, and I'm sure he warmed right up. She told me this morning that they were all still snuggled up sleeping. So, I'm hopeful our rebellious little "Peter Cottontail" is safe and will recover from his adventure. That's what we're going to name this little bunny, Peter. I think it fits.

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Have you ever watched rabbits nurse? They are so cute! The few I've spotted, trying to cop a drink outside the nest, lay upside down, on their backs with their little feet up in the air. They're the only animals I've seen nurse up-side-down. Just adorable.

I need to get the camera out and take some pictures, cause these guys are just cute, cute, cute.
(By the way, does anyone want any free baby rabbits???)

Kev the birthday boy

Today is Kev's birthday. He's 40 something. He's 2 years older than I am, but somehow, in my mind, I'm still 42, so that makes him 44...even though I'm not 42 anymore. I just keep forgetting to add numbers to that, so he's really 44, no matter what the calendar says.

Being the good wife that I am, I made him a pie last night. He loves Sour Cream Raisin pie. I got my Aunt Lela's recipe and made one for him last year and another last night. I have to admit, it's a pretty pie, my crust came out beautifully. But, I won't be enticed to eat a bite, because I happen to believe that raisins are the nastiest fruit out there. I like grapes, but detest raisins. Kev likes it when I make this pie, because he will be the only one eating it. That's fine. It is his birthday, he deserves something special, just for him.

Because I'm such a good wife, I also got him a very special present. I bought him a rock. Yep, he got a rock for his birthday. Now, how many people get rocks for their birthday? No, not those rocks, no diamonds for my manly macho man, but a real, honest-to-god rock. A nice big 900 lb. Moss Rock. It's for our pond. Kev saw it at a local landscaping place and thought it would be perfect for his waterfall that he's going to put in this summer. (Maybe, he's got a long list before he gets to do the pond and stream with waterfall.) So, last week, we stopped by the landscaping place, on a day when we had the diesel in town, and picked it up. I told him then, that it is his birthday present because I didn't know what else to get him. He's fine with that. (We have got to be the most romantic people on earth.) So, for his birthday, he gets a 900 lb. rock and a nasty Sour Cream Raisin Pie.

We also have this family tradition that the birthday person gets to pick out what we have for supper. Since we have a band concert tonight (a 6th grade band concert, o joy,) Kev said he'd settle for brats and chips for supper. He can top it off with a piece of pie. Hey, it works for me!

Happy Birthday Babe!

Fire...and wind

My Dad is the Fire chief of Big E's volunteer fire department. As the chief, he has radios, and scanners always attached to his hip, and in the pickup, and in the house. Anywhere Dad is, there's some kind of radio. He always has the radio turned on, and since he's hard of hearing, it's rather loud and annoying to the rest of us.

Right after we moved, in fact, it was the weekend of my birthday in January, there was a big fire. Oh, it was in Oklahoma, but the wind was blowing and they were calling for help of all the area fire departments. But, Dad was at my house, not at home. He was ready to drive home, but Mom made him promise that he would stay and visit with us. He was a nervous Nellie. He kept listening to them call out one county, and one town after another until they had a pretty large force called out. He fielded phone calls from his fire-fightin' buddies, who wanted to know where he was... He pouted. He worried, he wondered if they were getting it under control, and he wondered how they were managing without him.

They managed. It burned over 5000 acres, and they got it stopped--without Dad's help. But, he was so disappointed that he missed out on a big one. Now, my Dad is 65. He has asthma, and his lungs aren't good, haven't been since he burned them with anhydrous ammonia years and years ago. So, being in smoky air isn't good for him either...but you tell him that, cause we all have, and he refuses to listen.

There was another fire recently, one that Dad did get to fight. He was like a kid in the cookie jar, excited, talking about how they couldn't get to the fire because it was at the bottom of deep canyons, so they waited up top for the fire to come to them. He talked about how ceder trees burn and explode. I swear, if he was a teenager, he would have used adjectives like "awesome", and "cool" and would have used sound effects.

Along with fighting fires, the fire department is responsible for storm watching, watching for tornadoes. Last Thursday was Andy's birthday, so Mom and Dad came up to have supper with us. It was stormy, and we were in a Thunderstorm Watch. It started to look bad, and a report of a tornado came over the radio. So what did Dad (and Kev) do? They went outside, with binoculars, and watched to see if they could see any tornado's form. The wind was blowing, the sky had some lightening, it was that dark, dark blue-gray...and they were standing outside watching for tornadoes. Actually, they were hoping for tornadoes.

We did see some try to form, saw some short tails drop down, but they would go right back up and none ever touched ground. But, Dad had to watch, and he was on the phone with his cronnies, sharing what they could see from all their viewpoints. Dad's phone would ring, or someone would call over the radio... "Woody, where the heck are you?" "Is anybody else around to watch? "Yeah, we're at the Meade Junction, there's nothin' here." "What the heck are you doin' in Bucklin?" "Oh, well, you need to get home, we might get to see some action." "Well, you just tell your wife that you need to come home!" And Dad, is agreeing, and laughing, and sharing what he could see and finally, telling them that nothing is going to happen tonight. They all finally agree and the excitement is done--for tonight.

Who says boys grow up? I personally don't think they EVER do.

Wind

At this exact moment in time, I'm sitting on my couch, next to my favorite person in the whole wide world, and I'm watching the wheat ripple, wave, and blow in the field right outside our house. The wind is blowing about 25 mph and that wheat is simply rolling and waving. For those of you who live by the ocean, imagine the water moving in the wind, but imagine it being green, not blue. That's just how the wheat moves. You can watch "waves" ripple across the field. It's actually a very pretty sight. Granted, 25 mph is a little strong, and I'd prefer it to be blowing less, but the wind is a part of life on the Great Plains, and to live out here, you have to learn how to deal with it.
The wind blows almost daily. Sometimes it's a light breeze, other times, it's rather nasty and can just about blow you over or blow your car off the road. During storms, the wind can push the rain or snow until it is moving more horizontal than vertical. Days like today are also extra hazardous if there were to be a prairie fire. The wind can move that fire very quickly making it very difficult for fire fighters to get under control. I know about that too, I've seen a couple of very big and very scary prairie fires. Blizzards, tornadoes, fires...all are additional factors you have to deal with when you have wind like we do.

I've read stories about pioneer women who were driven mad by the wind. I guess, growing up with the wind, I thought of them as being "weak," but, as I've aged, I've realized that they weren't weak. They didn't have well-built, solid houses, that could keep out the dust and dirt that was blown about. Their houses didn't block the sound of the wind, nor did the houses block the wind itself. Some didn't have windows. Some lived in soddies. Living more closely to the environment, it must have been very difficult to cope with the wind and all it brings...

Most of the time, I don't mind the wind. It's a fact of life, has been my entire life. It doesn't bother me too much. Oh, it is annoying, and for someone with hair like mine...it adds to my natural beauty. Yeah, my naturally curly hair, which seems to get curlier the older I get, just loves to do it's own thing when it's windy and humid. (Like today...) Poor Kev, he has to look at me and my hair on days like today...

But, all negatives aside, the wind can be a thing of beauty, and it is right now as that wheat field ripples outside my window.