Besides being overrun with squirrels this winter, the rabbit population seems to be keeping pace as well. When I go out in the mornings, it looks like there was a Rabbit Jamboree all over the front, back and side yards! Many fast and furious renditions of the Hokey-Pokey. Lately, not only do I have to shoo (polite word for shoot at) squirrels off the birdfeeder on the deck railing, but there is a resident deck bunny as well. Contrary to my War of the Squirrelz, I tend to have a soft spot in my heart for rabbits. When I was a kid, I found a rabbit that had been hit by a car and injured, so, weeping copious tears, I brought it home and put it in a cardboard box lined with one of my mother's towels. My uncle, the veterinarian, happened to be visiting (probably hoping for Mom's fabulous meatloaf dinner) and, with even more copious tears, I pleaded with him to "save my bunny!" I don't recall any eye-rolling, but I am sure there was plenty. He rummaged through his black bag and came up with some iodine, which he promptly poured on the abrasions on the rabbit's hind leg. At which point the rabbit came fully back to life and tore through the house, kids and adults chasing behind him. We finally managed to get the front door open and he shot out to freedom. Then there was the time when Dad accidentally ran over a rabbit on the road. A chorus of three wailers from the backseat and an ocean of tears. We refused to talk to him. My poor, long-suffering Dad.
On an oddly-related subject, I have, at this late point, come to like celery. Not exactly earth-shattering news, but I have managed to loathe it most of my life. I can trace the core of my celery-abhorrence to my brief stint in the hospital at 17 to get my tonsils out. Expecting ice cream, I got endless bowls of institutional cream of celery soup. Gak. After that, the only way I would eat it was with a heavy load of peanut butter gracing the groove in a ratio of 100:1 (PB:celery). This new appreciation for celery has come gradually and from the fact that I am so frugal by nature. My co-worker, who is constantly bemoaning her weight, brings a large package of celery to work every week, a virtuous attempt at eating a more healthy diet. This usually lasts for one day. Then the celery languishes in the office refrigerator for the rest of the week, along with the carrots and other vegetables and fresh fruit that is shunned for restaurant meals. Then she throws it all out. OMG. So I go and fish it all out of the trash and take it home. Where I have to use it or show myself as a phoney-baloney. Quite honestly, I had to choke it down the first week or so. Now I add it to almost everything. Except soup.