Flipping your movies.

Whoops! Forgot to include this. :)

Download Windows Movie Maker for free from Microsoft.
http://explore.live.com/windows-live-essentials

Open the video in WMM.

Hit the rotate button.

Save.

Upload.

:)

Hoppy Christmas and a Hoppy New Year!

(I'll put a tutorial on a free and easy way to flip your movies 90 degrees below)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I had these in a very careful order when I started this post -- but somewhere between the power outage and Blogger saving the draft they got juggled, so in no particular order, some select ornaments from my tree. :) The lack of lights showing is in direct relation to said previously mentioned power outage. (I took the outage to mean "Yeah yeah, get off your ass, drive to your brother's and spend Christmas with family ya humbug!")

My Secret Santa on Petbunny one year had two ornaments made for me with pictures of Sage and Scout. The year Scout had passed, I put up my tree.. and dropped the ornament. It *shattered* against my floor. I was devastated .. and crying .. and whined.. and my secret santa pulled out a Christmas miracle.

This would be the Scout ornament 2.0. She looks way too cute and innocent in this painting.. which, come to think about it, was her modus operandi. "Who ME?" she would ask as she got caught red pawed in whatever she wasn't supposed to be doing. "It was SAGE!" she would say in her cutest way possible .. Actually, she was very good at framing Sage. For years I'd thought it was Sage who was the destructo bun. I was wrong.. Poor Sage.

Along with the Scout ornament came a Fric (or Frac) ornament. My Sage ornament had survived, so the secret santa decided that my two little fosters could use a representative on the tree. I thought in hindsight I should probably have given them to .. uh .. crap. The woman who adopted them from me. (I'm so bad with names!!)  Of course, considering she dumped them on the SPCA in my name without saying boo to me, its probably better I kept the ornament. *Sigh*

After my house fire, secret santa sent me these two to put up on my tree. Of course, I had no tree and my brother is rather anti-Christmas, so they got shipped to Nanaimo and put up on my Mum and Dad's tree. When I came over for Christmas, I found them in a spot of honour, and the other bunny paraphernalia had somehow found homes on the tree and in Mum's Christmas village, and.. :)

 For some strange reason, people assume I'm as hockey obsessed as I am bunny obsessed. I just don't know where I get this reputation from. (*adjusts halo*) Mum and Dad bought me this for Christmas last year and gave it to me when I bought my condo. :) This is the first year its been on my tree! (Or any tree, for that matter!)

*Hangs head in shame* I have no idea who gave me this bunny! It's a 2007 ornament, so I ass-u-me it was one of my Petbunny friends, but uhm...

He'd actually rolled over between me spotting Fergie and grabbing my camera. He HAD been sleeping in his exercise wheel, the silly goober. I guess he either got tired of running or he and Freddie had a falling out.

And you thought only rabbits could give such great disapproving looks! I'm pretty sure this is a "Stop flashing that stupid thing at me and go to bed, woman! And if you won't go to bed, at least let me sleep so I can bounce up and down on my wheel and wake you up at 0430!"

Hope Santa was kind to all of you and that you have a fantastic New Year. :)

Steven and Chris on CBC.

I don't have cable, so I typically have CBC on. I like CBC, it's fairly neutral in its media output and television shows. Considering its technically run by Canadian government that it would have *less* heckling of politics than any other channel rather than more. Rick Mercer is their king - if you ever need a laugh, youtube him. His rants are epic of the Dennis Miller variety.

Today I was watching Steven and Chris as I often do. It's a home design, cooking, fashion, etc show. I don't have much use for the information as I am NOT a home decorator type by a long shot, BUT, they're always interesting and entertaining. I was only paying half attention as I was filling out a form for a contest when I heard "..and this one is trimmed with rabbit fur!" (..) "Only $5.25!" and Chris started squeeing. You can probably imagine my reaction!!!

So I decided to write them an email. You can as well, if you wish, at stevenandchris@cbc.ca

* * *

Dear Steven and Chris,

I am a big fan. I am hopeless when it comes to home decorating, I could boil an egg for an hour and have it come out raw, and my fashion sense is permastuck in the 90s, but something about the happy, feel good, energy of your show keeps me tuning in. I think it’s that Chris is not afraid to try anything, no matter how good or bad he may be at it. But my heart skipped a beat and I got that plummeting feeling when you showed an item with rabbit fur on it today. $5.25 was the price. Yipes.

I am going to talk about bunnies; pet bunnies.

Rabbits are the third most popular pet in North America. They’re almost the second most popular in Great Britain, starting to edge out cats! They are friendly, affectionate; they have senses of humour, make lifelong bonds and can mourn just like other high intellect animal. They can be litter box trained and as long as you protect your delicious looking electric cords, they can be free range in your house. They may damage your furniture, but let’s face it, so do cats and dogs! It’s the price of animal love! I don’t think you’d squee over an item with cat or dog fur on it, and that’s how I react to something with bunny fur.

My first rabbit rescued me. I was living far from friends and family, I didn’t have a lot of resources and I was slowly circling the depression drain. I came home one day from grocery shopping and saw a couple of the large feral dogs of the area trying to get at something under my front steps. I hit my car horn, flipped the lights and slammed the car doors – fortunately for me, the dogs took off. I went to investigate what they’d been after and saw the cutest little brown bunny.

I looked at her, she looked at me, and I said “You’re safe, you can go!” I, foolishly, thought she was a wild rabbit. Now shen who would be named Scout, was no dumb bunny. She knew a sucker when she saw one. She took one look at me and hopped to stand between my legs, close to my right ankle. I looked down at her, “You can go!” I repeated. She just sat there. It was pouring rain, I had groceries in hand, I didn’t have much patience to muck about. Figuring the fastest way to get a wild animal to be gone is to try and pick it up. I did so and she let me. She promptly stuck her head under my chin and was shivering away. Oh, not a chance this poor thing was getting tossed out into the big, bad, cold, wild.. So, sap that I am, I took her into the house, put her in a box with some towels, left my groceries on the floor and went BACK out into the pouring rain to get rabbit supplies from the local Petcetera. She was still in the box when I got home, but it was suspiciously closer to the heater.

Over the four years I had her, Scout taught me a lot about patience, love and laughter. She talked to me, giggled with me, and was a quite vocal little bun. And like every small being ever born, she had a Napoleanic attitude. There was no where in my home she couldn’t get to. She had a four foot leap across and could leap five feet up. She only liked three males; my Dad, her vet, and Jethro Gibbs. As soon as he talked on NCIS, both ears would come up, she would run into the living room and periscope and stare at the TV until he was out of the scene. She would then sit down and patiently wait for his reappearance and repeat as soon as he spoke again. She had all sorts of health issues, she’d come from a very abusive place, but she stayed with me for four and a half years.

After I’d had Scout for about four months, bunny people on the net convinced me bunnies are happiest when they have a bunny friend, so I went and got her a pal. Sage, as she was eventually named, was a silver Dutch. She was probably dumped because she wasn’t of ‘breeding or showing pattern.’ Sage, the little five pound rabbit, taught me the true meaning of the word diva! She could be so wonderfully dramatic. If the house wasn’t as warm as she would like it, she’d gather up bedding (yanking it off my bed!) and drag it to the living room floor in a big pile and then with a teenage girl like sigh, flomp into the middle. If her food bowl was empty, she would pick it up and throw it at my head – and she had frighteningly good aim! After I wised up and got them crockery dishes, she once threw one of my shoes at my head because the water bowl was low enough she had to lean into it to drink. Apparently, this is completely unacceptable to bunny divas.

Scout, for obvious reasons, was terrified of the outside world. She didn’t want anything to do with it and every time I had to take her to the vet she would cry when I took her out the door. She was fine once in the car, but that initial step horrified her. I didn’t know bunnies could cry, and it is an absolutely heart-wrenching sound!  Sage, however, LOVED the outdoor world. She rescued an abandoned litter of kittens. She knew every kid in the neighbourhood. She took me for walks at the lake. She didn’t mind dogs as long as they didn’t lick her. (Any dog licking her instantly got the upset diva look.)  The kids brought her clover and grass. Unfortunately, November 13^th, 2010, bad wiring in my home resulted in a house fire and Sage did not survive. Bunnies are such tragically delicate creatures for all their personality.

So, when you say something has bunny fur trim – I think of a bunny that could have been someone’s beloved pet, but instead was slaughtered for its fur. I don’t expect you to fight the fashion industry – but maybe in counterpoint, have a member from a local bunny rescue on one day to help educate the masses. I’m sure the ladies at Rabbit Rescue, Inc would be thrilled to hear from you! (http://www.rabbitrescue.ca/ )

Thank you for listening,

[My Contact Info Removed]

The tail of two gerbils.

Gosh - isn't he just such a cutie pie, that Fergie? Doing a very credible flop for us, to show that bunnies and gerbils have some characteristics in common. It was almost .. foreshadowing.

Yesterday morning I stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen to make tea. I saw something flash by on the ground near the couch but didn't think much of it. I am not unknown for hallucinating movements when tired. (I'm sure Lena would remember me ducking a non-existent bat in Bino's) I made tea. I went into the living room and sat on the couch. I stared at the gerbil cage as a few neutrons tried to rub together and give me an important message.

Hey - why's Fergie running around underneath the cage?

Oh. Crap. WHY IS .. *&@#!! 

Fergie, fortunately, is too dumb to figure out how to escape the wood skirt that was under their cage. Freddie, however, is a devious little snot and probably wiggled out in under two seconds. I started Googling "How to catch a gerbil" having had trouble catching rabbits in the past.. and let's face it, rabbits, even Scout Bunny!, are much larger than gerbils. Another flash of movement and Freddie has run under the TV. "Ack! Not my cords!" I had flashbacks to every bunny proofing Scout defeated and every cord she'd nommed. (How she never electrocuted herself, I have no idea.) I dived (figuratively) across the room and managed to corner Freddie. With a bit of artful hand movements I managed to catch the little .. uh, sweet wee guy. (Little mother farter!)

Into their travel cage they went. Not that this could, or would, hold them for long. Fortunately for me, they're now too tired from all their adventures to chew through the top and have escape number two. (I'm fairly confident even Fergie the Challenged could have figured out how to climb out the top.)  As its not the end of the month, I'm at the end of my bank account. A panic message to parents and brother "Send money, the gerbils have teeth!" (Okay, it was a little more explanatory than that.)  Dave saved the day and sent me money to get them a new cage.

Problem is - I was discovering as I went through the local petstores - all the available cages had *plastic* bottoms. It wouldn't be long before they just chewed through it again. One of the very nice people at a locally owned and operated store said "Get them an aquarium!" I couldn't manage to transport a 20 gallon aquarium by myself, so they got the 10 gallon model with a screen for the top. ("I could sell you the clips to hold it down, but really, just go down to the river and pick up a big rock and put that on top. Gerbils, unlike snakes, aren't strong enough to tip the lid.") 

The real challenge was the water bottle. I hadn't even thought of that "slight" problem when I bought the aquarium - there was no way or place to attach it! So, in went a crock and for them to dump bits in and I went on a quest for something that would work.

I ended up having to borrow MORE money (this time from the parents) and drove out to Abbotsford, just over 30 kms (19 miles) away. The Petsmart didn't have any real solutions either, just a bottle holder that she said would go over the top, you put the lid back on and Bob's your uncle. (Like my Mum needs another brother??) So, I buy that and go home.

I was right to be dubious. The way the bottle sat, the holder sat, AND the lid of the aquarium sat.. even if I bent the holder about to fit over the side, i wouldn't be able to get the lid on! And while the furry felons have yet to figure out how to get to the top of their new home, I don't doubt they will very quickly! Especially if I put a shelf in there for them! So - I threw in the towel and went to bed.

Unable to sleep I got up and started mucking about. I had two bottle wire holder thingys. (Y'know the bit that goes around the water bottle to attach to the wires of the cage?) I had twist ties. Surely I could do SOMETHING. After application of pliers, profanity, and ingenuity, the water bottle now hangs from the metal screen lid and is within drinking range. Now if I can just get them to stop tipping their food crock about..

Over all, I think the aquarium is a better home for them. If for no other reason than it's darn harder for them to chew out of and they can't fling the discarded shells and bits from their food every which way. (Again - I give them time to figure out how to shove it out the top.)  Best yet - the freaking wheel no longer thumps loudly every time they run on it!  (It would bounce against the bottom of the plastic cage.) 

Its a good thing Sage and Scout trained me to be outsmarted by cute furry things on a regular basis or this could have been a real blow to my ego!

Own a part of a Canadian!

Dear Gerbil in the Sky, thank you for this grub. Do you think you could get the humom to put more sunflower seeds in next time?

As some of you know - I write to earn money for things like food, and internet and gas for my car. It's been a slow couple of months. So! Here's your chance to own part of a Canadian's heart and mind. Doesn't that sound most nifty?

Do you want something written? A poem, an introduction to a product, a short story, a retelling of an adventure? Do you want help with a report, or homework or what have you? (I can't write those whole from the cloth, sorry!) Do you want a story about your child, pet, significant other, favourite plant? Well, here's your chance!

For a mere cent a word, you can order what you like. You can pay by paypal, you can mail me a cheque, you can drive to Chilliwack, BC and meet me for coffee to hand me cash! I'm very accomading that way! :) Canadians can also Interac.  I normally have a $5 minimum, but in the crazy, crazy, "Own part of a Canadian!" sale, there is no minimum! You want a 16 word poem? It'll cost you sixteen cents! Amazing, huh??

If you've not seen an example of my work, you can find it in the blog history here or on my (desperately needs updating) writing blog, or you can hear me read it aloud! (Be warned, next weeks won't be suitable for children!)

Have a cute gerbil pic.

Have a cute gerbil pic, because I'm gonna rant. It's my blog and I can if I want.  If you want happy, perky, joyful Lorna - well, I have a podcast over at http://www.youtube.com/shadowydreamer ..

A few months back I was seeing a guy, we went on a few dates, he disappeared. I'm not one to go chasing where I'm not seemingly wanted. I'll try and touch base a couple of times, but if I get the brush off, I'm not going to make a nuisance of myself. I DO want to know why, and if the person won't tell me, I'll be sneaky about it. I want to not repeat the same mistakes in the future. (If they're mistakes, and they probably were.)

So, this morning, friend of a friend of a friend found out for me why he'd dropped me like a dead fish. Its because I'm disabled.

Wow, eh?

Now, its not even my fibro or my CFS, which are really the things that keep me from having a real job and making more than 15k a year. It was my crutch that "totally turned him off." (His words.)

WTF.

I have a damaged L5-S1 nerve in my back. Any one who has ever suffered sciatica knows this nerve and knows it well. This means that my left leg gets cranky. Most of the time it's numb, but sometimes it just goes into overload and it's on fire and I'm a very unfun person to be around. Mostly, however, when I abuse myself, my left leg just shuts down and I fall over. Its quite comical, in fact. (Hey, I laugh because if I don't, I'll cry..) So, when I know I'm going to be doing a lot of standing (which is the worst!!) or walking, I bring my crutch.. it makes me able to do those two things for longer as I'm taking it easy on my left leg.

The last date we had, I'd walked over to the coffee shop, and I'd expected to be sitting yakking for quite some time. (I know, me talk nonstop.. hard to believe.) I expected to need the extra oomph to get me home again. Apparently, that crutch ruined all romantic thoughts.

Okay, I can get that I'm not the most fun person to try and deal with in any sort of close relationship. (Friendship or otherwise.) I sometimes have to cancel plans, sometimes I just plain can't do things that I would love to do, sometimes I miss out of events and am sulky. (I'm not blaming my friends for doing stuff without me, I'm just miffed at the universe I don't get to play too. I'd rather they do it without me than sit and suffer because of me!) I get that my sleep schedule is f'd up at the best of times. I tend to have insomnia for two - three weeks, and then my CFS flips the switch and I'm groggy and tired and dragging my feet for two - three weeks. My legs burn when I'm not dead straight on with my meds (which is sometimes a bit of a juggling act). I have other fun issues.

I don't blame ANYONE for not wanting to get involved with me. I'm a mess! I try to hold up my end of things, but lets face it, because of physical limitations there's gonna be extra stress/work on the part of a partner. (There certainly is on my family and close friends.) I try not to be a drag, but life is what life is sometimes.  So, if it had been all of THAT I'd get it.

But my crutch?! The sole physical representation of my disability? (Besides the giant circles under my eyes and going on manic posting sprees on FB now and then.) I don't get that. 

Yes, its his fault on this one. There's nothing *I* can do about it. I had one guy tell me I didn't phone him enough, he always felt like he wasn't important. (Wish he'd told me while we were going out - I would have phoned more.. I was trying not to be a dead weight/clingy girl.) So now I negotiate what comfortable communication levels are. I'm happy going four days without talking to my beau if that's what their work schedule is. (Okay, not HAPPY, but willing.)  Its a give and take thing, right?

So maybe that's why I can't wrap my head around this. Its just so plain butt ignorant. 

And why the hell do people just disappear instead of EXPLAINING or at least EXCUSING themselves? Do people REALLY think that a blank wall of rejection is better than closure? Quick rip the band-aid, people.. don't leave the wound to fester.

Okay - done venting. Have another gerbil pic.

And thank you Lena and Jim for dragging me out of mopey mookyland. We'll just work on getting me out of incredibly pissed off land!

Silly Gerbils!

I have a fez. Fezzes are cool.

Gerbils are so very silly. Or maybe it's just my two.  When I cleaned out their cage, I put them in their small carrier thingy with some kleenex to dig in. When I returned them to their clean cage, I just dumped the kleenex in after them. Silly little desert mice like to have fluff in their nest, so I'd bought some cotton balls. A couple of those keep them quite happy.

Freddie has spent the day pulling the kleenex out of the hidey hut and putting it down on the ground floor. He then runs back up to the cotton is in the hidey and starts fluffing and seperating it to give maximum coverage. Fergie has spent the day watching his brother run down the ramp and then back up, then runs down the ramp, picks up the kleenex and runs it back up to the hidey where he promptly shoves it in the door. After a few hours of this, I swear Freddie thumped both back feet in irritation. Fergie tilted his head to one side and let out the cutest squeek/chirp. Freddie then gave Fergie a Glaswgow kiss to the middle and picked up a huge mouthful of kleenex and ran it down to the bottom.

Any guesses on what Fergie did shortly there after? :D

From Vancouver.

As some of you know, I live about an hour and a half east of Vancouver. I moved to Surrey, BC, 40 minutes south of Vancouver at the age of 11. I grew up (pretty much) in the Lower Mainland. As a few of you know, I'm a rampant Canucks fan. While we emigrated to Edmonton, AB in 1982, I've been a Vancouverite for longer than I was ever an Edmontonion. The Oilers are my #2 team, the Canucks #1.

I want to apologize on behalf of Vancouver. What you saw on your news was a group of young adults planning destruction and then dragging others along for the ride. Some people tried to stop the damage. Some people stood around and took pictures and lived vicariously. Some people tried to get out. Some people just had fun smashing [stuff].  There was talk on Skytrain (our elevated light rail transit) before the game about how they were going to riot win or lose. They packed in moltov cocktails, g8 protest signs, and various items of destruction. They thought it would be cool to destroy and run rampant.

That is not the Canadian way. That isn't the Vancouver way. Everyone I know of is appalled by the riot. They're horrified. And they're all for identifying each and every one of those people and having them slapped with a criminal record. Actions have consequences, and these hooligans should be facing their's. 

The true face of the Canucks fan is the ones who were cheering for the Bruins when they were declared the winners. The fans gave Thomas (Bruins' goalie) a standing ovation. It was a hell of a game and the Bruins played better - they deserved their win.. and while we were disappointed we didn't win, you have to salute the team who just wanted it more. The booing you heard was us booing Bettman. I don't think there's many Canadians who like him.. but even still with our extreme dislike of the man and his actions, we didn't even throw things at him.

It was reported that the first car to be torched had been brought downtown for that precise purpose. Who the heck thinks of these things??

Last night was a nightmare. I'm proud of the police, the paramedics and the fire fighters. I'm proud of those who stood between rioters and those already down on the ground. I'm proud of those who yelled "STOP!" and tried to prevent the destruction and looting. Those are the ones I'd like to think of as the typical Canadian. They're certainly the ones we saw during the olympics.

Kisses!

Its still hard to get a picture of the boys - fast shutter speed (because these two NEVER STOP) means flash, which means bad picture.. or I get a ghost.. or no gerbil at all!

In my earlier post I mentioned Petcetera and then never went anywhere with it - I got distracted by something shiny. (Ooo..Shiny) I had then gone to Petsmart. Where once again I got INCREDIBLE service. I mentioned that I'd just been adopted by two gerbils and got asked what size cage do I have, is it multi-level.. etc etc. I then ended up buying a better cage. Now, I know they may have been trying for the upsell, BUT, that wasn't the feeling I got at all. Especially since previous conversations there I've been told (pretending ignorance) that rabbits are like cats and need room to roam and play.  (Yay!)

So, tonight I was taking a break from yelling "OMFG, stop sucking Canucks!!" at my TV to make faces at the boys. Of course, I typically end up wriggling my nose like they're minature little bunnies.. Anyway, had my face plastered against the cage when Fergie came running up and put his nose against mine. I just about melted from the OMG, CUTE!!  Then he gave my nose a lick and disappeared into his tunnel. I got a kiss! Awwwwwww... <3

Now, Mr Mick.. I appreciate that there will be a bunny in my life again one day. But until I can find one as absolutely awesome as you, who will tug at heart strings, boss me around and train me right ('cause, y'know, humans lose their training practically overnight) .. I shall have to make do with two very silly little desert mice. My heart isn't strong enough for a rabbit at this point. (Or in short, one hasn't thumped and told me different)  One day tho, I'm sure.

Very sorry to hear about poor, poor Betsy. Not only dragged into a noisy car for *two* hours, but she had things stuck in her. Sage would have offered several colourful metaphors to employ about vets and their liking to stick cold metal objects in personal places.. But I'm happy to hear that she'll be well, once she finishes peeing on her humans on a daily basis for two weeks.

My new masters.

I've been thinking for weeks what my new master(s) will look like. Another rabbit? A hedgehog? A fish? (Beta fish are so pretty!)? Some mice?

Well, I made the mistake of going into Petcetera the other day and mooching around. If I hadn't already sworn never to buy from them while they sell rabbits as 'low maintenance pets,' the fact they followed me around as if I were a criminal would have done it. There's a difference between the 'I'm desperate to make a sale' stalk and the 'You're going to shove pine shavings down your yoga pants' stalk. I left without even pricing anything, I did look at their empty fish tanks, their sad looking birdies and the bunnies who were in what I'd call an sick-bed cage and wished I could rescue them all.

This morning a lady posted on a local mailing list she has some gerbils to go. She said she can't promise anything about them other than they're all from the same litter and gender. (Male gerbils have similar, ah, characteristics to male rats, rabbits and other very male animals.) I hit delete and continued with email. Then I went back to it and dug it out of my trash folder.. and phoned her.

Long story shorter, I am now enslaved two very cute little male gerbils. ("Did you know gerbils can mate through cage bars?" "I knew rabbits could.." "BUT GERBILS!!")

I was thinking "Ferdie and Freddie" for names, after the mischievous foxes from Rupert Bear. ("Rupert The Bear" if you listen to N. Americans.) But the tan gerbil doesn't seem like a Ferdie. (The grey does seem like a Freddie) So, tentatively they're Marty and Freddie.

Boy, did I think taking pictures of rabbits was "fun" .. at least they stop moving! For creatures that are supposed to sleep during the day (especially during the warmest part!) they haven't stopped exploring since I put them in their new cage.

RIP Chance Bunny. :(

From Sorelle :

RIP Chance. Chance was such a compromised rabbit from the time she got here (she was 1/4 the size of her litter mates, splayed, fat stomach, skeletal body, poopy butt, vacant demeanor, etc), never really expected her to survive, but after six months, she was actually looking like she was going to be okay. She very quickly developed a small swelling on her cheek, she was taken into the vet almost immediately, had surgery the next day, and it was discovered to be a very abnormal abscess with gas and thin, wet pus, which is a sign of a potentially nasty, abnormal bacteria. The vet couldn't keep her overnight so so went home with a caregiver who was going to keep her in a better environment than I could provide -- with carpets for her splay legs -- but it was not to be. Even though she was looking fine post-op, I suspect the bacteria was aggressive and she went septic soon after. We will find out with the necropsy. She was a very sweet bunny. Slow, yes... but very very sweet. Sleep tight little one. :(

From Lorna :

Chance was possibly the nicest, sweetest, most loving bunny I'd ever met. She didn't let her disability slow her down and she was generous to a fault. She got dealt a very rough deal and she wasn't here anywhere near long enough.

Hop painfree, little Chance.

A bit of pirating bunny.

I may have posted this before - if so, my apologies!

Sage was sitting on the dock with the sea wind in her fur. She had her eyes half closed as she watched the antics of a human crew trying to unload their cargo. It was obviously a pirate's booty since it had been badly loaded, rifled through and packed worse when they'd gotten it aboard. She wasn't quite sure why any pirate would steal a piano, of even why one would have been shipped in the first place, but it did provide plenty of amusement.

"Why hello there belle," a smooth lapin greeted her, nose wriggling ear at attention as he came up beside her.

Sage glanced over her shoulder at the black and white Dutch who had a bandana jauntily tied around his neck. No blaze, but plenty of attitude. She replied with a yawn and a stretch and looking back at the antics of the human sailors.

The buck wasn't deterred, if anything the disinterest of the silver and white doe seemed to interest him more. "And why is a beautiful lady like you sitting here alone?"

"Because I choose to." Sage replied with a sniff. He smelt of sea-salt and drowned rat. Probably either off a riff-raff ship that didn't clean its bilges nearly often enough or floated up on some driftwood.

"Waiting for someone, perhaps?" he continued, sneaking just a little closer.

Sage eyed him again over her shoulder and snapped her teeth in warning in case he was about to get any ideas. "No, just watching the humans." She gave a head toss towards the ship that had been entertaining her so.

The buck looked beyond the sleek silver and white dutch doe to the ship beyond and then shook his own ears in amusement, "Humans. They're a bunch of no-brainers."

"But they have the rum." Sage replied, intrigued by the strange accent despite of herself.

"Now, if it's rum the doe wants, it's rum she shall get." He raised his head above her's in the bunny equivalent of a bow, an offer to groom. Sage wasn't sure she was ready to have the brash foreigner groom her, but she'd certainly drink his rum.

The black and white rabbit bounded off down the dock and turned up the other pier, weaving between seamen, dock workers and the occasional lady of trade.

Rabbits, no matter their size or colour, could be very stealthy. Sage agreed that rum would definitely worth the effort of stealth.

It seemed no more than six nose twitches later than the buck had reappeared from the bilge leaking ship with a bottle of rum in his mouth. His gait was altered by half-carrying, half-dragging the bottle the same size as himself but he seemed to have no problem with the weight. Sage was impressed with his strength and his audacity.

Soon he was back beside her nibbling off the wax seal of the bottle. Sage did her part by donating a couple of half shells to use as dishes. With an ease that bespoke practice, the buck poured rum into each shell.

"The humans call me Jonny." He introduced himself.

"I'm Sage." She'd chosen her name, she'd just had to get it through her thick human's skull. "How'd you make it here?" she asked.

The bunny called Jonny seemed more than happy enough to regale her with stories of his adventures on the seas. Sage was sure even one or two of them might have a hint of truth to the fish stories.

The sun was nearing the horizon when she let out a delicate burp, a trick she'd learned from Janice. She leaned forward and gave Jonny a lick on the cheek. "Thanks for the good time, sailor." Sage turned neatly on her hindquarters and hopped back down the dock. There was only a *little* lateral movement to her forward motion.

Jonny sighed as he watched the view. "Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go, darling." He muttered before turning back to the shells and bottle of rum. The shells were empty and so was the bottle! The girl had milked him and left him to the winds! A broken heart and nothing to show for his troubles. He sniffed, normally the answer would be to drink more rum.

"But why is the rum gone?" he wondered, his first choice of first-aid prevented.

Sage did a binky, almost falling over in her inebriated state, at the end of the docks and hopped off to find her human. She hadn't even had to slap the pirate to keep him off her!

A review!

I got my first review. I'm all a giggly. :)

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I must tell you I enjoyed your story,as it avoids the stereotypic "I would be a happy little cute thing,but my owner kicked me off the house and I died because YOU didn't care!"

Although the story is light hearted,I like the fact that you didn't exclude danger and the difficulties of the domesticated animals to adopt to their natural environment.

And that goes double for dogs,because the poor creatures are genetically evolved to live among human beings and they suffer without human company.
I do not admit that your story made me smile (I am not cute-remember?),or that I laughed when the dog claimed that he trained his human masters (which by my own experience,I tell you that this is accurate-dogs train us almost to the same extend we train them),but I will admit that those were the best 2$ I ever spent.

Verdict:
If you can spent $2 to make you smile,then this story definitely is worth the money.

This is not a sad story,it is a funny story that will entertain you,it will entertain and teach a few things to the kids (it is not a kid story,it's all ages) and most important,you don't have to like bunnies to enjoy it,or feel like you're doing a charity.

This is an honest,well written,feel good short story-the fact that by purchasing it you help actual animals to escape death,is an added bonus to make you fell even better,even if you don't have a cute string inside you!

Just like I don't :-)

I

I decided Miss Plushie Bunny was looking lonely, so I got her a friend. A fairly nice, soft, lop named Bert. As you can tell - she's simply thrilled about the matter.

People keep telling me I should publish my short stories - so okay, here you go!



Its a short story called "Fizzy's Story" and its about a cute little lop who is abandoned by her humans in the woods. Its a story I think most rabbit owners are familiar with. Its cutesy more than anything else.

I have a friend who is working on some illustrations for a real paper edition, but as he has one of those pesky "life" things.. :)

And for something completely different..

I should be editing videos. (Ben just said "Yes, you should be!") This is occupying my brain instead. Some fiction involving everyone's favourite Azerothian gnome.

* * *

Reeska stood at the edge of Dolomaar and sniffed the air. It seemed strangely sweet, a sickly sweetness that seemed to permeate the breeze and infiltrate the sinuses. There was an odd amount of giggling - fully grown night elves giggling like children as they clutched baskets that made them run around at ridiculous speeds. Little fuzzy bunnies were hopping everywhere.

"Why don't you have a tail?" a piping voice asked from somewhere around her hip.

Reeska looked down to discover a gnome with cotton-candy pink hair bouncing up and down on her toes beside her. "Because I am in my human guise?" Reeska answered, still disliking the rough edge to her voice. It was if a thousand nights of screaming and howling had forever darkened her voice.

"Nono, silly!" The gnome slapped her on the leg. Well, it was a slap for a gnome, it was more a light swat to the worgen druid. "When you're a doggie. Why don't you have a tail?"

Reeska's eyebrows raised in surprise at the rudeness and directness. "I am never a 'doggie'. I am occasionally cursed to wear the form of an anthropomorphic wolf. As for the lack of tail, I would not know. I would imagine you would have to find a druid of the scythe and ask them."

"Where would I find one of them, then?" The gnome asked ingeniusly.

"Hopefully in the forever dark being tormented by a thousand stinging fire ants." Reeska snarled and turned away from the gnome.

"I'm Mishke GoesBoom." The gnome said, circling around to stand in front of Reeska. "You're a druid right? But not of these scythe guys, right?"

Reeska closed her eyes and pushed the anger and beast back down. Biting the head off a gnome might make her popular with some factions of the alliance, she doubted the night elves would be one of them. For some masochistic reason, they seemed awfully fond of the little irritants. "I am a student of Mathrengyl Bearwalker." She counselled patience to herself once more. "I am Reeska."

"A pleasure to meet you, Reeska!" Mishke held out a small, plump, hand. "Are you hear to watch the bunnies?"

Reeska tentatively shook the hand with thumb and forefinger. "No." She wondered, like thousands of people before her, how to make a gnome go away.

"I'm not a huge fan of Noble garden, myself." Mishke continued on, obliviously. "Running around searching for eggs? Why not just get some hens?" She shook her head, "No offense, but humans are strange."

Reeska was amused and gave the gnome a half-smile, "Yes, we are."

Mishke looked like she was going to say something then changed her mind, "Of course, if someone blows up the hen house - which, by the way, was a totally understandable accident, his feet were very cold, I guess bunnies that poop chocolate eggs would be a good second choice. I can't say though, I'd really want to eat pooped eggs."

Reeska blinked several times rapidly. The gnome had a point.

"But, the kids do seem to like it!" Mishke said as a mixed group of children ran past. "The Draenei certainly caught on quick, didn't they?"

"They're children." Reeska said, as if it was obvious.

"Right." Mishke agreed, "And, uhm?"

"Children. Chocolate." Reeska extrapulated.

"Ooooooh. Riiiiight." Mishke said, rocking back on her heels. "Well, this was fun, but I have to go make sure the rabbits don't eat the fireworks. You wouldn't believe what those little guys can get into!"

"Bye." Reeska managed as the gnome ran off, ponytail bobbing behind her. She rubbed her temples and wondered if she could take up the offer of the Gilnean restoration team after all. Certain death in the nightmare city could only be less painful.

She sensed her companion before she saw him, she turned to look at the high elf who raised one blonde eyebrow to her, glowing green eyes seeming to dance. They stood in silence for several long minutes. "No, I have no interest in sniffing out eggs."

He smiled. "Its for a good cause, Reeska. Think of the injured orphans."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You have a wolf, ask him to do it."

He snorted, "Cisa has too much dignity to rummage around in the bushes."

She turned to stare at the hunter with open mouthed shock. "Oh, and I should just grow fur and a nose, ditch my own dignity and rummage around in the bushes for you?"

He smiled and gave her a half-bow. "Of course. It's a holiday. It's for children." He tilted his head to one side and looked at her thoughtfully as she growled under her breath. "Unless you're worried you'd eat the bunnies?"

"I will not eat the bunnies!" Reeska snapped. ONE incident where her worgen nature had grabbed control when she was learning how to track in cat form, and no one was willing to let her forget it. It wasn't as if the screech owl had been traumatized beyond a few lost tail feathers."

Another grin and Doilan slipped his arm through her's, "Come, Reeska. You take yourself too seriously. You must learn to relax and have fun."

"Says the man who once bathed himself in blood for power." She growled, and instantly regret it as he stiffened. She sighed, and hugged the arm he'd started to pull away. "I'm sorry Doilan. I'm just.." She gestured with her free hand, "Missing what it is to be human, I guess." Another sigh. "I can wear the mask, but I'm still other."

"Other is not so bad." He said, turning her so he could kiss the tip of her nose. "I quite like it, myself."

The rapid blinking again and then another round of shoving her worgen nature back down as a surge of emotion ripped through her. "Damn."

Doilan laughed and took her hand, "I know. You still have a lot of progress to make, but I am in no hurry. I have centuries."

"That makes one of us," Reeska grumbled as she let him tug her along.

"Really? Have you ever seen grey fur on a worgen?" He asked, head tilted to one side.

"What?" She said, pulling him to a stop.

It was his turn to look pained, "I thought Bearwalker.." He shook his head, "Obviously not." He pulled her over to a nearby bench, lightly tapping two rabbits to move aside. He patted the bench beside him, and she sat down carefully. While noble garden rabbits tended to make bell like sounds as they hopped, they still had a frightening ability at sneaking up on you. "You are infected my magic, entwined with the dream, and further woven with more magic. You won't age so much as you will eventually just .. lose your connection with the weave of the world and stop being."

"Much like elves?" Reeska replied, more a statement than a question.

"Much like elves." He agreed. "Though, Night Elves do tend to live longer than High Elves, and we both live longer than Blood Elves."

"Burn the power, enjoy your life, leave a good looking corpse." Reeska said, showing a glimmer of her old humour.

"Well, its more a splatter of sparkling lights." Doilan said with a wry smile. "So.."

Reeska ran a hand over her face, "It's another thing to get used to, I suppose." She turned to him, "Centuries, really?"

"I like you, Lady Niliana now Reeska," he said formally, "But I do not wish to have parts of my anatomy very dear to me bitten off in the heat of passions."

Reeska stared at him, blushed, and then laughed. For a race of beings her mother had insisted were the height of nobility and glory, Doilan could be remarkably .. earthy, sometimes.

"There, you smile. Come, let us let some children infect us with their own joy, gather some chocolate and bring it to the hospice, yes?" He rose with ageless grace and Reeska couldn't help but shake her head and follow him.

Rabbits scattered as they came towards the moonwell, bells jingling merrily. "I'm thinking I know why elves like Noble Garden so much." Reeska said, running her free hand through her now much shorter hair.

"Hmm?" Doilan prompted.

She touched his nearer ear and caressed its underside. "Awfully rabbit like, those ears."

Doilan stood very still under her touch and then broke into a wide grin, "That, my dear, is the least of our rabbit like qualities."

Bunny Humour

Maurice, an animal loving Frenchman was disheartened to find that Paris didn't have a rabbit rescue. He decided it was long overdue and he would organize one. While he could find plenty of rabbits to rescue, he was having trouble finding housing for them. He went to businesses, chatted up his friends, talked to charities and no one had room. Finally the Archbishop contacted him and said he could keep them out back of the cathedral if he promised to keep them quiet and clean. Extatic, Maurice phoned his wife, "Daria, good news! I've got a hutch back of Notre Dame!"

*adjusts halo*

It must be Easter..

I sent this around to my Facebook friends, but I thought I'd repost here for others to pass on if they'd like.

* * *

If you've heard my Bunnies are the third most common pet in N. America and the most misunderstood speech before, skip to the end. :)

Animals lovers, I contact you today in hopes of spreading a little education and gaining your help in stopping some ignorance. Whether you have cats, dogs, turtles, birds, a pig in the barn.. I think all of you know that uncontrolled breeding is a *BAD THING!* A female rabbit can put out a litter of 6 - 8 kits every thirty two days. ("Can't add or subtract, but boy, can they multiply!")

Bunnies need room for exercise and play, just like cats and dogs. They're active around dawn and dusk, or if their human is one of those day slaves, typically as you're trying to get ready for work ("Pet me!") and then ignore you for a couple hours when you come home from work. ("Do you have dandelions? Meh. I'll continue my nap.") Rabbits are litterbox trainable. They're very curious and hyperactive little demons.. er, I mean darlings. They like to chew, dig, play, dance, and some have a vocabulary for communicating with their pet humans.

Commonly rabbits get advertised by breeders and pet stores as "starter pets" or "quiet, low maintenance animals, like hamsters." Unfortunately, it's not true. They may seem boring in the classroom, but imagine a cat stuck in that cage all day, with kids poking and yelling.. and worse yet, imagine if that cat was a prey animal! Far from their ideal home! They're also expensive to take care of when they get sick. They have delicate bones and digestive systems and they can't have penicillan. (Amongst other little quirks.)

It's Easter time once more. The tragedy of Easter is that so many people buy a rabbit on a whim and then as soon as said rabbit hits puberty - instead of getting it in to be fixed (and solving a lot of those, ah, overly social, activities) they just dump them out in the wild. The only thing bunnies can do in the wild is be eaten. The average life span of a bunny out in the wild is about a week, the poor things have *zero* survival instincts! The "nicer" dump the bunny off at the already overfull shelters and rescues, where if the bunny is lucky, it isn't euthanised within a couple weeks.

What this lecture is leading up to (are you at the top back with me now?) .. There's a mall in Edmonton, AB that is hosting a rabbit show for Easter. They will be handing out information from breeders on where you can buy your very own cute little pet bunny. And let's face it, breeders, for the most part, need to make money. Yes, there's responsible breeders like my friend Lena (*waves*) but unfortunately, their furchildren get outnumbered very quickly by the puppy mills, the bunny mills, the kitty cat mills all too quickly.

So please, if you have time, write a letter of protest to the Bonnie Doone Shopping Centre at : emills@morguard.com .. Anything from a nice long lecture (You know I typed up one of those!) to a "Please research rabbit care at http://www.rabbit.org before you encourage their sale to the general public."

For more information on the joys of bunnies and easters, feel free to visit http://www.makeminechocolate.org/

Thank you.

What a long strange trip it's been!

While that picture is actually of my brother's couch - I am indeed moved into my new apartment/flat/condo.

The feeling of freedom is incredible. Having my own space that is mine, with no responsibilities (per say) outside of the walls, is amazing. I don't have a lawn to mow. I don't have plants that I should water (but never remembered to - good thing I had awesome neighbours.)

The last six months has been a long, strange, trip. The fire was November 13th, I recieved my settlement in late January, I took possession of the apartment March 11th, my Mum immediately took over and bought me new carpet and painted the walls. Heck, my realtor (Bonnie Radke, for any needing a realtor in Chilliwack, BC. She's AWESOME.) even painted my kitchen.

My couch arrived from The Brick on the Tuesday, so that was my first day living here. (I had still been camping on my brother's couch.) Then on Saturday I got my washer & dryer, and bed. The bed is an adventure unto itself - it's hard as a rock and I need plush. The model in the store had been VERY soft, so I'd thought what a deal at $379! It was PERFECT. Nope, not so perfect. Sears won't take it back - they'll do an *exchange* but the next cheapest model is $400 more.. And I have to say, I'm not being real impressed with their customer service over this. (The washer and dryer, however, work awesome once my Dad hooked them up.) I have said I'll take a store credit (Lord knows I buy enough of my clothes through Sears!) that's been debated amongst their customer service upper echelons for the past four days. So currently, I'm sleeping on an air mattress on the floor. Good thing its a comfy air mattress.. even if it needs re-inflating every couple of days.

I am also still doing battle with Alliance One / RBC Visa. I had gotten an offer of "buy out the debt" from RBC via Alliance One (a Canadian Credit Agency). So, when I got my insurance settlement, I paid it out. Alliance One said they'd send me paperwork. Long story short, I still haven't recieved any paperwork and RBC Visa says I still owe them another almost six thousand dollars. I am NOT a happy camper. Just sent off a couple of registered letters. They have a week from reciept to reply or I'm going to the BBB and the media. Enough is enough. I think I've been remarkably patient with Alliance One, having accepted four claims they've either mailed or are mailing the paperwork, one claim of email, two claims of faxes.

On the bunny front - its almost time for the UVic rescued bunnies to move down to their sanctuary in WA State. We're having a garage sale, and I have to confess I'm donating a bunch of my stuff from my shed instead of having to sell via Craigslist or pay for storage. (Er, I mean, its a sacrifice for the bunnies! .. *Cough*)

The first strata meeting is mid-April. So I get to investigate the pet situation then. :) Chance's future Momma and Poppa are back in their real home, so she will (probably) be going across to them soon. I wish I could claim her.. but.. alas, I think her medical bills are beyond my means. She's a very special bunny, but special bunnies have special needs. And I am the first to admit the disabled are expensive! (MY family would agree!!)

But with the living situation settled, I'm once more getting back into video taping friend's bands. Very excited for some upcoming shows.. Tho I'm not quite sure if I'm up to the 2.5 hour drive to Kamloops! :D

Also - Pacific Northwest Rabbit people! There seems to be a whole shlock of us, why don't we have a potluck picnic or something in the Seattle area this summer? (June maybe?) I'm a bit limited on what I can bring across the border, but I can certainly do beverages. (Propane stove + 10 types of tea = Lorna's idea of travel.)

Hoppy Birthday 'Shell!

Hoppy Birthday Shell!

Hope your days are full of love, laugher, binkies, hugs, kisses and nifty STUFF. :)

Bunnies and Tim Hortons.

Nirvana requires two simple things.. Friends and .. oh, wait.. three things.. ;)

I am bunny sitting for the lovely Lynn and the Daring Darin. (I'd say Darling, but that's not terribly masculine)

This means I get to spoil Miffy, Vinnie and Jackson rotten. Miffy is the only creature on the planet to still be demanding pets after I've gotten tired of petting. Normally its the animal saying "okay, enough now!" Even the declared pet sluts. I'm pretty sure you could set off a bomb beside Vinnie and he'd just half lift a loppy ear, peer around, see that everything he cares about is still standing (Miffy, his food dish and his water bowl) and he'd go back to sleep. Jackson is a tad perterbed that his kit (Caitlynn) is not around, he's stuck in a condo, AND I don't know how to do his salad Just Right.. but he's putting up with me, being the stoic bun he is. He's almost as handsome as Sheeba is purdy, being a black lop.

Oh.. and they left me Tim Hortons blueberry muffins and a Tim Card. (Gift Card) .. Mmmm.. Heaven.

Good friends, bunny wabbits AND Timmys. Heaven! ;)

UVic Bunnies.

Happy Year of the Bunny! I'm being a bit slack and just posting a link to a video.. the little cutie pie at the start is Chance Bunny.



Oh.. and settlement finally came in so I start house hunting soon! (Which means, bunny hunting shortly there after, right? In the bunny slave sense..)

Take a Chance on me..!

That's Chance. She's one of the many Flemish bunnies that Sas rescued. She's a midget Flemish who was failing to flourish in with her family. I hand fed her the couple times I was over there. She's just entirely too polite for her own good. If a bunny snatches food out of her mouth, she'll let them. She'll share what she has, even if it means she gets none. When in a family of ten.. that doesn't work so well.

So, she had very brittle fur and ears, she hadn't outgrown her baby white spot on her forehead, she could barely hop. Sas is the bunny whisperer. She doesn't like separating buns from their families because they keep improving their immune systems the longer they're around their siblings and/or parent. So Chance and two of her splay legged siblings (Who I've been calling 'Snowy' and 'Whitey') and gave her extra TLC. What you see now is a very health looking Flemish Midget. (She's still very small for a Flemmy.)

I plan on kidnapping her as soon as I have my own place. Sas warned she's a walking vet bill.. but so was Scout and she was my little heart bunny. Apparently, I'm just a sucker for the waifs and wobbles of the bunny world.  Now.. if I can get through the adoption process. (I don't think Sas approves of my "Wait till she's looking the other way and snag the bunny!" idea.. ;)