The Great Bunny Rescue

When La Petite’s phone rang, it was the mother of a friend. She and her youngest two children had come across five domestic bunnies that had been abandoned at a construction site near a local bike trail. They went back with lettuce and a large box, lured the furry ones, brought them home, and called The Bunny Whisperer, a.k.a. La Petite.
We knew what to do, so Chuck and I joined her. We gathered two cages with litter, hay, and pellets for each cage. La Petite knew where we were going, so she drove. When we pulled into the driveway, Friend’s Mom and two kids in pajamas led us into the garage where she’d set the box.
Five full grown domestic rabbits were in the b
ox. Two were harassing the others, so Chuck picked up those two first and looked them over closely. “Yep. Boy bunnies. Let’s separate these from the others.” We put the two males in one cage and the three females in the other, and they calmed down significantly. All five started to nibble on the hay and pellets, and they even found the corner with litter and used it appropriately.
Four looked like they may have been related or from the same litter; the other was a lop-eared character who didn’t resemble any of the others. He was either a major case of recessive genes or was unrelated. Cute, though. They were all cute, even though they were incredibly dirty from their adventure and trauma.
We left them settled for the night, and La Petite made arrangements to help Friend’s Mom take all five to the Humane Society the next day. When they delivered the bunnies, La Petite reported to me that all five looked cleaner and they were eating well and (are you sitting down?) at least two of the three females were pregnant. We were further appalled.
We’ll never know why the owners dumped the bunnies. Maybe realizing the males were mature was too much to handle. Getting them neutered could have been too expensive. Maybe the owners realized that not only were the males mature, but the females were expecting. If five bunnies are too many, five plus two litters of babies would be overwhelming.
The girls, getting a little attention
I still don’t fully understand, though. La Petite and Friend’s Mom brought the rabbits to the shelter. The previous owners could have done that instead of dumping them. Pet rabbits are not equipped to survive in the wild. They don’t know what to eat, and they’ll be eaten soon because of their lack of camouflage. With their domestic coloring, they’d be hawk bait before long. The little albino in particular would be easy prey for eagle-eyed predators – and I do mean eagles.
La Petite was pleased with the people and the set-up at the shelter. Rabbits and other small animals were kept a significant distance away from dogs and cats and in a separate room. She said they looked clean and well cared for. We wished we could have done more. When cash flow is a little easier, maybe we’ll make a donation. We’re grateful to have a Humane Society in town. We’re also grateful to know people like Friend’s Mom who thought it was important to rescue these animals when they were homeless and in danger.
The Boy Bunnies

We’re grateful we’re able to make a good home for our pet rabbits: Sadie, Buttercup, and Krumpet. We love them dearly.

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>Picnic Time at Recipe Lion’s Blog Hop

>Recipe Lion’s monthly Blog Hop for May features picnic recipes. It’s in the 50s today, drizzling, and we even gave in and turned on the heat again, so it’s hard to think of outdoor picnics right now. A few days ago the weather was so hot and muggy stores turned on their air conditioning! Well, that’s Wisconsin weather: if you don’t like it, wait a day.

Whether having a picnic or dining al fresco on the deck, food safety rules are paramount. Keep the hot foods hot and the cold foods cold so bacteria doesn’t have a chance to grow. If we attend a potluck picnic, I prefer to bring a cold dish for just that reason. Salads are great: fruit salad, lettuce salad, or similar dishes are easy and delicious. Desserts are good, too. My rhubarb is growing like wildfire, so I’m going to bake rhubarb treats soon and often. Here’s a simple rhubarb bread that makes a good picnic food or snack.
Rhubarb bread: makes two loaves
Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups packed brown sugar
2/3 cup vegetable oil
1 egg
1 cup buttermilk or sour milk
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 cups raw rhubarb, chopped
1/2 cup pecans or walnuts
1/3 cup white sugar
1 Tablespoon melted butter

Directions


  1. Heat oven to 325F, lightly butter and flour two 8″x4″x3″ loaf pans Combine the brown sugar, veggie oil and the egg.

  2. Combine the buttermilk (sour milk), baking soda, salt& vanilla.

  3. Add the milk mixture to the sugar mixture alternately with the flour, beating well after each addition

  4. Fold in the rhubarb& the nuts.

  5. Turn batter into the two loaf pans.

  6. Sprinkle with the melted butter and sugar.

  7. Bake for 45 minutes or until done.

  8. Let cool. Serve warm or cool, with butter or plain.

My tip for rhubarb; harvest frequently, whenever the rhubarb is red. Use a food processor to chop into tiny pieces. Freeze in a single layer on wax paper on a cookie sheet. When frozen, pour into a container. This method allows cooks to pull out exactly the amount needed without thawing the entire container. Mm; rhubarb bread in January. Savor the thought.
blog hop button Fabulous Food Friday: May Blog Hop

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The best Mug Shot ever

When we travel, my favorite souvenir is a coffee mug. I drink from my Amtrak mug and remember the trip on the Empire Builder. I sip from my lobster mug and remember Nova Scotia. Whenever I finish a major project, I like to pull out my “ducks in a row” mug to show that I do, indeed, have all my ducks in a row.
Now I found another mug, a historic mug, that I must have.
Last year, President Obama said, “I can’t go around with my birth certificate plastered on my forehead.” When he released the long version because his short version wasn’t good enough for the conspiracy theorists, he told reporters that he didn’t have time for this silliness. He had more important things to do. A few days later, he announced that Osama bin Laden had been found and killed. Ahem.
To thumb my nose at those who still don’t understand that Hawaii is one of the United States, the Democrats have come up with the perfect mug.
Go ahead; go to this link and make a donation of $15 or more and get the Born in the USA mug. Stay active and stay caffeinated and get yourself a piece of history at the same time. I plan on it.
Disclaimer: I am active in progressive politics, including Organizing for America, but I was not paid or sponsored in any way for this post. This mug was too good to pass up.

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>Rhubarb Muffins – a classic

>The first spring in our home, many long years ago, we discovered all kinds of fun things growing. We’d moved in late enough in the fall that everything except the grass was brown, and nothing was blooming. We enjoyed the show as daffodils, tulips, daylilies, and even a beautiful bleeding heart bush made their appearances on the stage. Tucked into the backyard next to the garage we found rhubarb.

Since that spring, I’ve developed and discovered many rhubarb recipes. This one’s tried and true, a regular product of my tiny kitchen. I found it in a newspaper, modified it slightly, and then started making it regularly.

Backyard Rhubarb Muffins

1 cup all-purpose flour
½ cups whole wheat flour
¾ cup brown sugar, packed
¾ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1/4 cup applesauce or 1/3 cup canola or vegetable oil
1 large egg or ¼ cup egg substitute
½ cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup fresh rhubarb, cut in ½ inch dice
Topping:
1/8 cup brown sugar, packed
1/8 cup chopped walnuts
¼ teaspoon cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Coat 12 muffin cups with non-stick spray. In a mixing bowl, combine the flour, brown sugar, baking soda, and salt.
Make a hole in the center of the dry ingredients and add the oil (applesauce), egg, buttermilk, and vanilla. Mix just until dry ingredients are moistened. Fold in the rhubarb. Scoop batter into the muffin cups.
Topping; Combine the brown sugar, walnuts, and cinnamon. Sprinkle mixture over the tops of the muffins, dividing equally.

Bake for 20 to 23 minutes or just until a toothpick inserted into a muffin comes out clean and dry. Remove from oven and cool on rack. Makes twelve muffins.
Alternate topping: After cooling, drizzle with a simple powdered sugar icing.

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>To-do list

>

The weekend’s to-do list:

Buy plants from arboretum plant sale. Check.

Remove weeds from garden plot.
Set up rain barrels. Check.
Make grid to guide planting.
Plant tomatoes and peppers.
Put in the tomato supports.
The Milwaukee Brewers were playing well Sunday afternoon, though. It was a little distracting. Must enjoy those home runs while they’re happening! Go, True Blue Brew Crew!
The tomatoes can go in tomorrow.

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>Not everyone loves the rising phoenix

>

God help you if you are a phoenix
and you dare to rise up from the ash
a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy
while you are just flying past
–Ani DiFranco, “32 Flavors”

The quote from “32 Flavors” resonates with me, and not necessarily the way DiFranco intended when she wrote the song. Recently I told my family that I am tired of being a trailblazer. I’m hearing impaired. I teach, I write, and no one in the school district seems to know what to do with me. They’re accustomed to shuttling their disabled students off to special classes, but a disabled, capable, professional? They’re stumped.

Maybe the image from DiFranco’s song is what I need. If I can re-imagine my role not as the one out front stepping in front of the crowd, leading the way through the mud and getting slashed with low-hanging branches, if I can envision instead the phoenix rising from the ashes, it might give me the strength to fight my battles and leave a good, clear path for those who follow.

It’s not easy being – well, it’s like Kermit the Frog. It’s not easy being different. I wonder if some perceive my success as somehow easier, rather than harder, than theirs. Do they think I got a break because I don’t hear well? I have a hearing aid compatible phone. I.T. provided me with a longer cord so the computer monitor doesn’t interfere with my telecoil setting. Those reasonable accommodations, however, didn’t make teaching easier than it is for other, non-disabled teachers. These accommodations merely leveled the playing field.

Now I’m moving to a new position, one that I feel will be a better fit for my abilities than attempting to hear and react to a large, noisy classroom. I applied for and got this job through seniority, not through disability. I hope no one thinks I’ve jumped the line by virtue of my hearing loss. Then again, who cares? Anyone who thinks so is wrong. I know what the truth is, and if I rise from the ashes on my own, it’s a gain for all around me.

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>The Bird Sisters by Rebecca Rasmussen

>Imagine two elderly sisters. One sister cares for injured birds, fixing their injuries if she can, wrapping them in an embroidered handkerchief for burial if she can’t. The other sister provides fresh bakery and home made jam with a special listening ear for the person who brought the bird for treatment.

Now go back sixty years. Imagine the same sisters preparing for the fair and looking for methods to raise money. One sister creates a cure-all tonic and sales pitch worthy of the best snake-oil salesman, and the other sister goes a more traditional route by entering a cake-baking contest.
The two sisters are The Bird Sisters in a rural part of southern Wisconsin. Rasmussen’s memory for the area is accurate and detailed, and her descriptions show the roads and yards and homes as they could exist. Many such towns do exists, with homes resembling the house where Milly & Twiss live. The setting is as important a character in the story as the people. – home and barn, long roads and small town, intimate church with steeple and bells – The interactions – person on person, person with place – create a complex and bittersweet story.
Milly and Twiss befriend their unusual cousin Bett, sent to visit by her mother while she straightens out her life. Bett initially provides a welcome distraction from their own parents’ conflicts, but she is also the catalyst in a change that alters the directions of their lives. Milly and Twiss are nothing alike in appearance or personality, but Bett’s summer changes them and brings them closer than they’d ever imagined – or cared to imagine.

The Bird Sisters is Rebecca Rasmussen’s debut novel. Her narrative is smooth and engaging; her characters’ dialogue is authentic and believable. This book was a page turner; I didn’t want to put it down. I look forward to Rebecca’s future works!
Crown Publishers (a division of Random House) provided me with a copy of The Bird Sisters with the agreement that I would participate in the book discussion on Goodreads.com with the author. I thoroughly enjoyed the book and the discussion. My copy will make the rounds of the readers in the family. I hope they enjoy it as much as I did.

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>Good tired, bad tired

>Good tired means I’ve been working, using energy well, wearing myself out in a positive way. Muscles might be sore, a little tense, but it’s a productive feeling. Spring gardening is one way to reach a good tired feeling.

Raking, shoveling soil, squatting to plant seeds, all this takes energy. As recently as a month ago, I wasn’t sure I had the energy to do any of these tasks. Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, but I know that now I can handle it. I worry, though; am I overdoing?
Bad tired happens when I wake up in that dark cloud, the dark cloud that holds me to the bed and makes me wonder if it’s worth even walking into the kitchen and turning on the coffeepot. Bad tired is not having the emotional energy to walk outside, much less get the trowel and seeds and get the planting started.
Bad tired feels like “Why bother?” Bad tired is dragging through mud, trudging up the same section of path over and over until I give up. Bad tired is a night when I feel tired, but not sleepy, and get tense just thinking of how tired I’ll be in the morning if I don’t sleep well. Bad tired, you can see, is a vicious cycle.
Bad tired happens less often now. I credit my garden with a lot of the good tired. That little patch of dirt that hosts the seeds and seedlings each summer is also a source of motivation for me. The internal energy that says, “Plant now, you’ll be glad later!” leads to the good tired, the feeling that I’ve accomplished something. I have more to plant in the next two weeks, and that’s good. Energy still isn’t at its normal level, so spreading out the efforts is the best way to handle this. If I overdo and collapse from exhaustion, my two steps forward will yield two steps back, and then it’s back to bad tired.
Deep breath: I brought in the tools. Now the rain can come and soak the seeds. I’m going to take a nap, and it’s a good tired.

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>SEALS – doing a good job, quietly

>Navy S.E.A.L.S. are in the news right now because of their successful and heroic mission to take out master terrorist Osama bin Laden. In the midst of the flurry of follow-up news, people are asking, “Who are these soldiers, these specially trained men? Where did they come from? What will they do next?”

My thoughts were running on a different track. While the news programs were showcasing the rough training and the statistics for this group (75% of those who start fail to finish), I was wondering about all the missions they’d completed quietly, out of the public eye. The bin Laden mission was by nature destined to become public knowledge, but much of what they do is less well known.
I was also thinking about a set of fiction books that follows a different team, the Fey team, an intense team of military professionals who also complete most of their missions quietly, out of the public eye. This is the team featured in The Fey, Learning to Stand, and Who I am by Claudia Hall Christian. The series takes its name for the main character, Alexandra Hargreaves, also known as Alex The Fey for her uncanny knack for solving unusual cases.
When I’m reading, the characters have to become real in my mind. They can be unusual, they can be over-the-top off-the-charts types, but if the characters feel real to me, I take them into my head and follow their paths through various plots. Alex is a strong character. She’s tough, yes, but it’s an internal strength that carries her through her missions and her personal challenges. She can be female and be in charge. I buy into her character, flaws and strengths together. Her coffee addiction may be the only trait we share, but I can see into her mind and feel her emotions as Hall’s books progress.
The Fey series ventures into an area of life I know not at all: military life, special ops, green berets. The adventures of the team may or may not be realistic, but I don’t have the experience or knowledge to judge. And that’s fine; my job as reader is not to judge, but to enjoy. I thoroughly enjoyed following the challenges, failures, and successes of Alex the Fey.
Want to know more? Go to AlextheFey.com for everything from purchase information to sample chapters.

This is not a sponsored post. I’ve met author Claudia Hall Christian through social networking and decided to check out her work.

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>To ADA or not to ADA?

>”Don’t throw ADA at me; it makes me angry.”

Let’s set aside for the moment the fact that the principal who growled this at me was actually quoting the wrong law; he should have said “IDEA” or the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act. This quote is a strong memory from Amigo’s primary years. We’d reminded the principal that he needed to use appropriate methods for dealing with a blind child, and he put on an attitude. That attitude was part of his problem; he didn’t want to recognize the need for reasonable accommodation, much less take responsibility for accommodating for a student’s disability.
Now the position is different. I’m seeking reasonable accommodation for my hearing loss. I’ve handled all necessary adaptation for fifteen years – buying and maintaining hearing aids (not covered by insurance), working with the IT dept. to get a usable phone and a slightly longer cord so the computer didn’t interfere with the telecoil settings on my hearing aids.
Now I’m seeking a preferential placement: one that will allow me to use my teaching skills, but not constantly adapt to noise levels around me. It’s taking forever, and I don’t feel supported. Thanks to our clueless governor, when our contract expires in July, I may no longer have a professional association for support, either.
ADA, however, is a federal law, not state. It should still work in my favor. I’m not talking about a lawsuit or taking anyone to court; I’m just looking for a way to continue teaching despite my disability.
Documenting this disability feels impossible. I jumped through hoops to get an appointment with the Ear, Nose, & Throat doctor (ENT), who told me he couldn’t write what I needed because he had no knowledge of teaching. He then referred me to a doctor in Occupational Medicine. My regular clinic wouldn’t take me unless I get a referral from my employer or it’s a workers’ compensation case. The other large medical group in town agreed to make an appointment. Now I just have to worry about whether or not this doctor can write the letter I need.
This garbage is not helping my depression recovery. Not a bit.

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