Do you remember The Country Mouse and the City Mouse? Most of my day—scratch that—now that I replay the story in my head, I think I was channeling a different planning and prepping mouse. Or was I? Never mind. I looked it up, and I was wrong. The country mouse visits his city cousin for a life of decadence, but after run-ins with racing cars, dogs, and humans, he returns home to the peace of the country.
Which has absolutely nothing to do with anything.
There’s a loaf of bread in the oven. The watercolor painting supplies are back in their bin. And if you look closely, you’ll notice seven new plants: two junipers, three Heart of Jesus plants, a Spider Web fatsia, and a calathea freshly potted and donning its new location. Smelling the warm bakery scent, I paused to check the bread. Damn. I’ve outdone myself. My grandmother’s voice whispered in my ear—her pride always stirred by a good home-cooked meal—and I heard her say, “You’ve outdone yourself, Marge.”
I stepped out onto the back deck. Sitting on top of the foot-high brick ledge of the fireplace is our new bunny. He’s curious about Archie, who’s definitely responding to my overly high-pitched, “Here bunny, bunny, bunny!”
Don’t feel bad for Archie. He got an all-beef hot dog earlier for letting buns sniff his buns.
Uh oh—juniper down. The rabbit’s tugging and chomping away. But Google says it’s full of Vitamin C, so… no need to move it. The plant is enroute for the hard-packed sand near the pool anyway, a recommendation from the plant nursery employee to help keep the soil from washing away—
—lk;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;p[i];;’;lok
(Sorry for the interruption, but the bunny had an important message for you.)
Anyway, as I was saying, instead of washing away. And wash away it does—the all-day rain has created mini creeks, running off the cement and spilling into the field.
Also, fun fact: you can potty train rabbits. Isn’t that wild? I’ve been out here for over an hour and haven’t seen him poop once. And in the last 24 hours, no pee sightings either. I set a mat next to the greens, hay, and water in his cage, and maybe he’s using it? Earlier, Evelyn and I picked up a few of his tiny pellets and placed them on the mat, per internet advice. You’re also supposed to soak up any pee with a paper towel and set that there, too. There being a litter box. Which I do not yet have.
Mother’s Day, alone at home. I hacked away at my hairy cub legs in the tub, played with plants, and watched the rest of The Pitt—which might be one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. It reminds me of Aaron Sorkin’s The Newsroom: bold and brilliant characters, ethically tangled situations, all executed in a way that leaves the viewer blinking, begging for more.
Alright, I better head out. It’s bedtime! Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 