Well, helloooo handsome!

Short post, no time to chat. Bunny doing well, has taken over the office. Now it's my boss, threatening to dock my pay if I don't keep the raisins flowing.

For those times when I said: "I wish it would snow more here"

Clearing off the car so I can go four wheelin.

Four wheeled sideways into front lawn:

Snow leopard on the loose:

Winter scene at the end of the street:

Smooshed: Snow 1, Car canopy 0. We moved the car just out of reach yesterday, thankfully. Car 1, Snow 0.

Snow + Bunny = This week

Ok, that title doesn't make all that much sense. But, we have snow and a bunny. They are not mixed, for which the bunny is glad. The snow is indifferent.

The bunny is now living in my office for over a week. It went from scaredy bunny to sweet love bunny in record time. Now it would like it if I spent all day every day patting it on the head. Just don't pick it up. It doesn't like to be picked up. Its new name may be Snufflufugus, because I think that's a funny name. The bunny doesn't care. The bunny does care about raisins and ESPECIALLY cookies. Snuffy Cow Print is a poop machine. Hop...doodle...hop...doodle...hop...doodle. If she went into the woods, she'd be able to find her way back for sure. Also, the bunny, who is as brilliant as Taylor predicted, is now using a litter box (for peeing at least). I wouldn't say it is exactly "box trained". It found two places to pee, so I put a box in one place and its food in the other (theory..it won't pee near the food). It worked. Well, initially the box failed. The bunny did fine, but the box failed. It went into its little box and peed...right over the edge onto the floor. This it did twice. But I braved record snow to get a bigger box, and we're now 100%. Today Snuffy Cow Print is excited because I gave her an early Xmas gift, a cardboard BOX. She loves the box. The box is DA BOMB! She wouldn't go to bed tonight because she wanted to PLAY IN THE BOX, and nibble it some.

Right after we "got" the bunny, I read a website about "Rabbit Speak". My conclusion from applying the lessons in the website with my observations of the rabbit...this rabbit HATES ME. This was cause for some concern. But after a week, Snuffy doesn't do those hateful rabbit speak things like ears back, running away, stomping hissing spitting biting screaming and breathing fire. It just does sweet happy bunny things now like ears up, using the litter box, and acting happy when I give her a box.

Ok, enough about the bunny. Some pictures from this week.

Me and my new bunny, at the beginning when the bunny was too scared to jump off my lap. Notice the ears are back, bunny speak for....I am NOT enjoying this but I'm too afraid to bite your finger off.

Scruffy, not at ALL pleased. Bunny is in HER territory.

Taylor and Pixel watch the snow.

Thomas Kincaid, eat yer cheeseball heart out.
Snow bird.
Snow tries to smoosh the "carport" and, in the process, my car.

Cat nap

More snow.

Garden gnomes in the snow.

Bunny Hunt, Day 6, Victory and for breakfast...BUNNY

pancakes. I didn't bother with the net hammock rig yesterday because it was raining and, the fun stops when somebody gets their eye rained in. Or something to that effect. So, with the help of the Havahart Company of Lititz, Pennsylvania, I set a proper trap last night under the trees and when I checked this morning, there was one Cow Print Bunny smashed into it. It barely fit, but fit it did. There are no "bunny in the trap" pictures. That would be unbecoming of a bunny.

Now the bunny is living in its new rabitat in my basement office. We put it in there, with its new bed box filled with special, ridiculously expensive "Timothy Hay" that looks like lawn clippings, and its new litter box filled with overpriced stove pellets. It is settling in pretty well, checking things out. Sorry, but there won't be much to tell about now that I've caught it. That's why Elmer never caught Bugs, and Wiley never caught Roadrunner. Once you catch em, the fun part is over. One mildly amusing thing happened. Cow Print has decided to pee in its bed and nest in the litter box. Whatever works.

I decided that the 24" high fencing isn't high enough to reliably contain a natural hopper, so I went out and got a higher fence. And made the pen include the fireplace, which you may be able to see has white board in the top. That's to stop the backdraft. When we have a fire in the living room fireplace, right above the office one, it backdrafts like crazy and fills the room with smoke. Not good hospitality. Hopefully Cow Print doesn't chew the duct tape.

See, already so much less dramatic. Somebody asked me: "Why are you making a big deal out of this rabbit?" Why? I'll tell you why. Otherwise, it goes like this: "A stray rabbit came into my yard, I trapped it, put it in a pen in my office and now it just sits in the corner and stares at me." See how much LESS FUN that is to read? I'm just SAYIN.

New favorite spot, the fireplace:

All this junk is going back.

Bunny Hunt, Day 5, brainy bunny

Taylor wants the laundry basket back. I went out and saw that the bunny (admittedly, I'm only assuming it was the bunny) has chewed the string apart. The bunny basket trap was a non starter.

Taylor sez: I think you're not gonna catch that bunny. Evidence shows that it's smarter.

Smarter than WHAT?

Bunny Hunt, Day 5, the continuing saga

I saw the bunny yesterday afternoon. I came home from errands, got out of the car, and it came right over to me. So I went in the house, got some food and prepared to try the "grab the rabbit" tactic. When I came out, that rabbit wouldn't come anywhere near me. Maybe I have a "tell". I think this bunny could have a future in tournament poker.

Today, I am going to make a net trap out of an old hammock. I have to figure out...should the net fall on the rabbit from above, or should I put it on the ground and have it lift up and "bag" the bunny?

Bunny Hunt, Day 4, noon

No bunny sighting so far today.

My friend DJ said the way to catch a rabbit is to grab it by the scruff of the neck. Sounds great, DJ, but I don't see any rabbits in YOUR house!

Meanwhile, Scruffy thinks the rabitat is for her and has been sleeping in the box.

Bunny Hunt, Day 3, late afternoon

You'll never believe what that darn bunny just did. Right in front of me, it went over to the trap, looked over its shoulder at me, then proceeded to reach under and PULL THE BOWL OUT. I'm remembering that Elmer Fudd and Wiley Coyote never caught their targets either.

Bunny Hunt, Day 3, early afternoon

New Trap

Baited

Lying in wait. Pixel helps keep the lookout.

Bunny Hunt, Day 3, later morning.

Damning evidence....

Look at me, I'm eating your bulb flower shoots right in FRONT OF YOU! bwa ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaa


Forensic evidence, crocus stubs with chew marks

Bunny Hunt, Day 3, late morning

Bunny with new net. This net is OBVIOUSLY bigger. See how much smaller the bunny is next to this net.


PostScript: The bunny won't come anywhere near the new net. My only conclusion is: Bunny's do NOT like blue.

I'm starting to feel like Wiley Coyote. I'll go back to ACME and get a bigger net that I can drop DOWN on the bunny while it's eating at its bowl. More soon....

Bunny Hunt, day 3, morning

Catching update: I got a bigger net yesterday. Taylor looked at it and said: "That's not bigger. It's just a different color." Oh. Well, maybe the bunny prefers silver and blue to all-black. I put the net out next to the bunny's food bowl (yes, I put out a food bowl for it a while ago). My hope is that Cow Print Bunny grows accustomed to the new blue and silver net and just puts itself in there for me.

Sighting update: I haven't seen the bunny this morning. I looked from three different windows and two doors, which is a statistically slightly less insignificant sample than just looking through the door.

Wascally Wabbit

Bunny in nature:

Bunny Hunter, totally UN natural:

Watch out bunny:

Destination Luxury:

Squatter:

Latest update: I almost caught the bunny. Almost... I need a bigger net.

SSShhhh, be veh wee Quiet

For the last two months, seems I've been adrift at sea in a turtled dinghy. But I'm back and now, and I'm hunting wabbits, cowpwint wabbits. My tulips asked me, with great desperation, to please PWEEZE catch this wabbit before spwing.

Here's the back story. Around spring of 2007, a domestic bunny appeared in the neighborhood. It is white with black spots and it's legal name (according to me) is "Cow Print Bunny". Cow print bunny has been free ranging over two full blocks for almost two years now, in and out of seasons, across years and definitely through the place where the wild things are (the neighbor's yard with the neighborhood kids). It eats pretty much anything, especially things you would rather NOT have eaten. Aside from eating everybody's gardens, it's a cute lawn ornament. And we all thought it was fine that a domestic wabbit went fwee wange. But then it made a crucial mistake....it moved into MY BACK YARD. My back yard has much flora on which a fwee wange wabbit can delectify. After two years of allowing the bunny to roam free as the wind (or not, I heard bunnies can't pass gas), I decided that alone on the range is no life for a lonely domestic rabbit. So I am going to adopt it. It has no IDEA how lucky it is about to become.

Today, during lunch hour, I got an indoor/outdoor exercise pen (aka: cage), a litter pan and litter pellets on the off chance the thing can be box trained, a small bag of grass for a large price (good grief), and some other bunny essentials. Oh, and a NET. Yep, I got a net from the fishin section of Target. They don't sell nets at Petco. At Petco, they assume you've already captured your furry companion.

Now, I'm waitin. Waitin for the wabbit. Because as soon as I was weady for it, it disappeared. But I'm gonna catch that wascally wabbit. And it's gonna live a luxurious life indoors where its new biggest concern will be boredom and the cat glaring at it.

And, I have just the right hat. I have a blue gingham Elmer Fudd hat. It's perfect. Wabbits LUV Elmer Fudd hats. At least I don't have a blunderbuss.

I'll keep you posted.

Xtine On: Things a Dinghy Skipper Knows (or will learn)

My boat is a dinghy. Dinghy is defined as: a small sailboat, typically under 20' in length, with a non weighted retractible centerboard. Hey...I just made that up, pretty astute sounding, if I do say so myself.

I am the skipper, being defined as: the goober trying to sail the dinghy.

Here are some lessons that I, as an experienced dinghy skipper, would like to impart on the next dinghy generation.

1. A dinghy sailboat can sail very well with a competent skipper at the helm (this is COMPLETELY theoretical to me, having never personally tested this concept).

2. In high wind, a dinghy sailboat can get far from the docks and from any other boats, especially when said dinghy is the only boat on the water and it's almost dark.

3. In high wind, a dinghy can capsize, although high winds are not always necessary.

4. If your dinghy capsizes, it can turn completely upside down with the mast pointing past the bottom of the river and toward the center of the earth, and the centerboard harkening skyward. This is called turtling or, by some yoga enthusiasts, initiating the poseidon pose.

5. If your dinghy initiates the poseidon pose in shallow water, the mast will touch the bottom and do its best to get stuck in the mud.

6. If your mast is stuck in the mud, your dinghy will be difficult to right.

7. If your dinghy is being difficult to right and there is nobody around except a few gun totin, tobaccy chewin, motor boatin fools, nobody will come help.

8. If you need help and nobody comes to help, you will say naughty words while you keep trying because there is no other option except abandonning ship, which you will NOT do because you just BOUGHT this dinghy and also, mainly, because that would be too embarrassing.

9. If it is windy and you finally get your turtled boat righted, the wind can blow it RIGHT back over even in the face of your cries: NO NO NOOOOOOO

10. When you finally do get your dinghy righted, it WILL (not may) take significant upper body strength to pull yourself back into the boat.

11. If your upper body strength is insignificant, you will get dragged along behind your boat which is now going at a good clip in the wind.

12. This is just embarrassing, and you KNOW the motor boaters are laughing at you. Also, the Portland Spirit dinner cruise will come by at this point and all the dinner cruisers will stare and wonder if you are dragging behind your boat because you are a boob, or if it is a new sport they haven't yet heard of.

13. If you are dragging along behind your boat in high wind, you will pick up pretty good speed.

14. Going at a pretty good speed, if you turn your head, you will see that your butt is creating a wake of its own. You may find this a welcome amusement during your man/woman/skipper/goober overboard drill, which you decide is how you will spin this if you ever get back to terra firma.

15. If, despite repeated tries, your upper body strength remains insignificant to the challenge of pulling yourself back into the boat, you may discover that the wind is blowing toward the shore and you can direct the boat, using your behind as a rudder, to shore where the boat will ground itself on the rocks and you can walk back in.

16. Once you walk back into your boat with great relief and start to sail it back toward the club, it will sail like complete ca ca. It will be impossible to control and rudder will feel broken.

17. If, in high wind, your boat is handling like goldfish poop, you may get 50 feet from shore and capsize AGAIN.

18. If you are going overboard, yet AGAIN, rather than yelling obscenties, you should keep your mouth shut and hold your breath. This IS the Willamette and that water in the sinuses can NOT be beneficial.

19. If, after clearing your sinuses of river water, you swim around to the bottom to right the boat by pulling on the centerboard, you may notice to your horror, that the centerboard is completely folded up inside the boat and ungrabbable. OOPS...and you may think: So that explains why it was handling like poop, but NOW WHAT?

20. If you need to grab the centerboard but the centerboard is ungrabbable, you really have no choice but to make it grabbable by pulling it back out which isn't amusing or anything and DOES mangle your fingers but you will feel triumphant until

21. You have to repeat the butt-rudder trick back to shore.

22. If you have gotten back to shore and walked back into your boat, you will now be sure to put the centerboard back down this time and sail with great trepidation back to the docks. The rudder may still feel broken but at least you are upright.

23. If you have made it back to the dock and it is still windy, you should probably stand at least ten feet away from your boat. Because if you stand too close, the wind might suddenly change causing the boom to swing around and wail the holy guacamole out of your collarbone.

24. When you finally start recounting your tales of adventure on the high seas, you will INSIST to the other sailors that you BROKE the rudder. But the other know-it-all sailors MIGHT point out that you got some lines tangled in the rudder and it's otherwise fine.

25. If you have learned many such things in one evening, there are still a few more things that will happen:

• You will go out for beers with the innocent bystanders and regale them with your tale
• You will be completely covered with bruises, literally head to foot, and look like you've been beaten up by a gang of thugs.
• You will show off the bruises and make comments such as: "I like it rough."
• For several days, you will FEEL like you've been beaten up by thugs and that you'd prefer it much less rough.
• You will forget ALL of these lessons soon and do something similarly stupid the next weekend.
• The next time you sail, mud will rain down upon with the wrath of God, and you will wonder: "Why is God angrily raining mud down upon a humble dinghy skipper?" Then you may remember your last foray in the wind and smile.
  

And, of course, this is all just an instructional document. None of these things every REALLY happened, and there are no witnesses (except the people on the dinner cruise, but good luck finding THEM!).

The only REAL thing that could happen:
You will soon discover an even more bruise-producing boat and just HAVE to have one!
http://www.bladerider.com.au/index.html

What I did on my summer vacation

Cakebread Cellars...Movin on up...

I am sooooo behind, but I've been swearing with full-on good intention to update everybody in internet-land about my super fun summer, because you all just care so darn much about what I've been doing. But I'm so far behind that I have to deal with this like an 8th grade term paper. First, if we're lucky, I'll get the outline done. Then, I'll have to get it approved by the teacher (Pearl...that's you I guess). Then, I'll have another month until the due date, at which point I'll get up a little early and do it right before class. If there were a cliff notes for this, I'd just give a link to that. But since there's no actual literature yet on the subject, there's probably no cliff note version. Ah, cliff notes, I would not have graduated without ye (can they revoke your diploma retroactively? better watch it I guess).

Ok, summer outline, first draft. Think way back:

I. (note the correct use of outline numbers with capital roman numerals)
II. Vacation in BC (summary: took the convertible, it rained the whole time)
III. Something about installing a french door, I think I'm already out of order
IIII. throw in a few incorrectly formatted roman numerals
IV. Curtis visits, the rest of that weekend is a haze. I have some golf clubs in my garage now that appeared around that time.
V. Deck warming party with anatomically correct pinata and intellectually incorrect guests
VI. Sailing lessons, this year without taylor
VII. probably something interesting i'm forgetting, probably so
VIII. buy a sailboat
VIIII. get too busy to sail the sailboat
VIIIII. fry camry clutch on boat ramp
VIIIIII. buy a new car for the sailboat
VIIIIIIII. oh yeah, forget to mention, sold the miata right after the vacation. regretted that before the check cleared. the money was enough for a boat. or enough for a car. or not.
X. went to ashland, got stomach flu. that sucked (more precisely, that blew)
XI. determine that stomach flu more effective than south beach diet
XII. went camping at frog lake with the lake bakers dozen. saw frogs of all sorts, some hopping, some smokin
XIII. went to napa valley, tasted wine, dimmed judgement, bought lots of wine
XIV. went to san francisco, wedding of friends david & danny in sutro heights park. great wedding, nerdiest (i mean smartest) guest list ever. If weddings were all like this, maybe i wouldn't generally dread them. i miss those boys. maybe we should do another contract in greeley, co.
XV. probably lots of other things too
XVI. finally joined facebook. any spare self-absorbed time is now being wasted there and not so much here. keep swearing i'll stop wasting time in it, but it is kinda fun. today i licked myself.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, some viewables formatted badly. You can click on the pictures for a bigger version, so as to better see the irrelevant details:

Taylor in Victoria, BC. High Tea at the Empress: $100-something per person, decent clothes for the dress code: $500, saying "screw it" and ordering room service instead: priceless.

Taylor points out the sights.
Taylor points to a starfish.
Toured and sampled beer at Vancouver Island Brewery in Victoria. The more we sampled, the more FUN it all got. These guys next to me are in the Canadian military. They DON'T ride horses. That's the mounties. They DO drink beer in the shower, but preferably light beer. I think that's not an official Canadian military duty, but rather an optional extra curricular activity. Who knew?
Taylor and tea time in Qualicum Beach, BC
Goat on a roof. Those crazy cannucks...what will they think of next?
Butchart Gardens. It's Butch - Art, not boo shart. Get it right, would'ya?
Butch art indeed
Taylor and hippo umbrella stop to smell the blue poppies
My new boat. a hoy mateys.
There it is in it's native habitat, a trailer on land.

The new boat's new car
Monster pinata and filling: airport liquor bottles and rubber duckies.
Those boys, always chasing balls around.
pinata at 6 o'clock (turn around dude)
Jason and the anatomically correct pinata. AKA: putting the crude in crudite. Click on the picture.....go ahead, I dare you.

Jared's 7th birthday, otherwise known as "norovirus minus 7 hours". this is not the last we'll see of that cake!

Tanya and Monicorn (friends, NOT partners...just FYI) bake the lake. So, Are those real? Of course...and so are the pringles.

What lake? Frog Lake! In Mt Hood Natl Forest.
Look, it's a Kayak with a Taylor.
chillin
Peep bunnies roasting o'er and open fire
Napa Valley. Hoy-tee Toy-tee
Oooooh, la la. Now this is butch art.

Devil hair at CliffHouse, SF, CA

Cutting (near fatal stabbing) of the cake.
Bowling back in session on sep 4th. Back to normal life, summer's over.