Sitting here waiting for the coffee to kick in, my mind is as blank as the screen. As the odd thought scurries through, I'll try to catch a couple to share.
A friend down in the valley runs a rabbit rescue service. She sent me photos a group of rabbits with an attractive woman that were taken for a promotional calendar. Would these be the original playboy bunnies? Could one be the mad March hare? I can't say too much because Deb and Craig's cat, Clyde, is in a calendar on my wall in a pose that would put Burt Reynolds to shame.
Inga not only came without coaxing yesterday, she stood outside the door crying to be let in. After the copious quantity of the day before, there wasn't much milk in the bag, but cramped fingers still had a problem with the process.
It seems the barn mice are using the diaper (udder) wipes in many ways. I knew they were taking dry wipes for winter blankets. Now I watch obviously pregnant mamas shred a wipe into fluff to line their nests. The oddest thing to me is that as the weather gets warmer and drier, when I toss damp wipes into the bucket they are immediately set upon by mice who rush to suck out moisture.
I was lucky enough to catch a National Geographic documentary on hummingbirds. I will not ever be lax in filling their feeders again. These little guys need to feed every fifteen minutes. They make it through the night only by going into torpor, their heartbeats dropping from 400 beats per minute to 40 so as to conserve energy. One of my long-asked questions was answered: a baby hummer's beak is normal to the size of the bird when hatched and lengthens as the bird grows. Kind of like a teenage boy's legs.
That's it. The screen has gone blank again. It's Trash Day Tuesday and I've got to get this show on the road.