Some Days Are Just Not My Days...

Today was one of those days again where I woke up and needed at least another hour of sleep. This is my own fault for staying up too late. The problem with reading instead of watching TV in the evenings is that with TV, there’s usually a set schedule and when the program is done, you turn off the TV. When you’re reading, it’s so easy to talk yourself into “just one more chapter” that another hour can pass before you realize it.

This is why I’m crotchety today. I stayed up too late reading and then had trouble sleeping for no apparent reason.

When I got to work, I realized I was not in a good mood when I got an email from one of my coworkers with a resume she’d found on Monster.com and a subject line of “CALL NOW!!!!!!!!”. As soon as I saw the email come in, I had an uncontrolled burst of irritation and I was annoyed.

The reason I was annoyed is that this coworker isn’t a recruiter like me. She’s an account manager. This means it’s her job to bring in jobs for us to fill and the recruiters will fill them. She still likes to recruit though and it’s a compulsion of hers to go on Monster first thing in the morning and find new resumes. Most mornings, it irritates me a little but I don’t let it bother me because that’s what she does. Today, it irritated me because I was already grouchy. The major problem I have with it is that Monster.com is one of my resources and I have my own system of finding resumes. Half the time she sends me resumes, they’re people I’ve already called and talked to or I haven’t been able to get hold of them. The other half are for jobs we have open that I’m not really working on and the emailed resume serves as a distraction because I’m in the middle of doing something else.

Still, most days, as I said, I can live with it because it’s just what she does.

The rest of my morning, I felt tired and useless. I’m having another one of those periods at work where I’m just not getting anywhere. Even when I find good people for jobs, the companies either move too slowly and my candidate takes another job or there’s something that the company doesn’t like and my candidate doesn’t get the job. Mostly, it’s just part of the package of being a recruiter. Yet there are some days where it just makes you feel beaten down because there’s no real positives happening.

By lunch time, I was hoping for a break to revive a little. It didn’t help that my left eyelid was twitching all morning which, according to Google, is a sign either of allergies or tiredness. Since it only twitches when I’m already stuffy and watery-eyed from allergies and I’d run out of Claritin, I figured that, at least, was something I could take care of to make the afternoon better.

So, I decided to stop at CVS on the way home to buy some Claritin. Because I find that the stuff you can buy off the shelf doesn’t really do anything, I had to go to the pharmacy for the ‘controlled substance’ version with the pseudoepinephrine (sp?) in it. No problem. I got my little cardboard picture of the medicine and took it to the pharmacy county. I handed them my driver’s license with my normal flush of resentment towards the crystal meth makers of the world for making hayfever make me look like a druggie. The pharmacist took my license, swiped it and…it froze. I stood there for ten minutes while she and the other pharmacists tried to get their computer working but, in the end, they couldn’t and I left empty-handed having killed 15 minutes of my lunch hour waiting in line in addition to actually driving to CVS. Irritated, I headed home to let the dogs out. Naturally, at the place where I turn into my neighbourhood, there was a utility truck and the road was closed so I had to go all the way around.

When I did get home, I greeted the pups, let them out and started to make a quick plate of salad for lunch. Then I heard a peculiar sound- it sounded like something heavy fell over followed by a high pitch whine of what sounded like pain.

I abandoned my salad-making and went outside, worried one of the girls had hurt herself. Instead, I was greeted by a small brown rabbit that ran right by my feet, pursued by two avid dachshunds.

The rabbit ran, the dogs followed. Around and around the garden they went. They were whining with their ‘need’ to catch the bunny and the poor creature, no matter how hard it tried, could not find its way out of my fence because of the security measures I’d taken to keep Rory in.

The bunny kept running, throwing itself at the chain link fence to try to find a way out. Seconds later, the dogs caught up and the bunny ran again. Given that it was so hot outside, I was getting worried that the dogs would get overheated but they obviously didn’t share the same concern.

Finally, just as I was about to open one of the back gates to try to shoo the rabbit out, it found a small gap under the fence and ran for its life across Possibly-Joe’s garden.

My dogs proceeded to try to follow it. I checked to make sure that the fence was secure. It seemed to be but the problem with dachshunds is that they’re obsessive. They won’t stop until they find a way out if pursuit of a small furry creature is possible.

Thus, though I brought the girls inside, they insisted on going back out and since they had to do their business still, I let them. This meant I spent the time I was eating worrying about if they’d find their way out. Needless to say, it was not relaxing.

So, when I went back to work this afternoon, I still was not in the best of moods. The afternoon didn’t get any better as my coworker delivered the news that one of my most solid candidates did not get the job for which she was literally quite perfect.

By the time I’d left, I wrote the day off as being ‘just one of those days.’ I’ve had a few of those lately and I need to do something about it.

I think I’ll start by getting more sleep. Even if tomorrow is bad, it’s easier to face if your brain isn’t fuzzy and, well, you have to start somewhere.

Happy Thursday. Thanks for reading!

Doggie Addictions

Hello. My name is Captain Monkeypants and I'm the mother of two addicts.

My children are not your classic children. They have four legs, long black bodies with a soft coat, black and tan faces and the biggest brownest eyes you ever saw. They also have tails.

Their addiction is not a classic one either. They're not after heroin, cocaine, crystal meth or even alcohol.

Their addiction is something far harder to control. It's bunnies.

Yes, my two darling little dachshunds, Ms. Rory Wrigglebottom and Ms. Sookie Stackhouse have gone and got themselves addicted to bunnies.

It may sound like an exaggeration but, trust me, they are as addicted and hardcore as any a drug addict when a rabbit is around.

I realized how bad it was this morning when, unlike most mornings, my puppies did not run outside, do their business and then come back to look for me while I was getting ready for work. Our usual routine is that I get dressed then they go outside. While they're outside, I get some biscuits ready for them and then I brush my teeth. While I'm brushing they usually come inside, ready for their morning breakfast biscuit treat.

This morning, they didn't come inside. I gave them a few minutes. I had time to put on my makeup. That doesn't take long since I tend to apply makeup so it doesn't look like I'm wearing makeup. That might not make sense to some readers but to most low-maintenance women, that makes sense. The goal is to look good without trying to look good.

I digress. I finally went to find out where my little puppies were. They were in the brush at the back of the garden. Since I didn't hear yips, the squeal of a captured bunny or anything else worrisome, I went back inside and continued my morning routine. Halfway through doing my hair, I heard excited yips.

The sound of excited yips means a couple of things. It means either Rory has found a hole to dig and though she's made quite a dent in the ground, she can't get any further. She's angry. Or it means she's found a bunny and is hunting it.

Since it was still partially dark and Rory prefers to dig in daylight, my heart sank. I went outside. Sure enough, my dachshunds were prancing and dancing around the tool shed, clearly having scented something alive, yummy and ripe for the capture. Sookie began to yip too. Worried about getting complaints from the neighbours- having heard what they have to say about the Dog Whisperer- I tried to get my puppies to come inside.

It didn't work. My usual commands fell upon oblivious ears. They were on the hunt. Nothing else mattered.

Ironically, in the half twilight, I managed to glimpse something small, furry and decidedly bunny-like streak out from under the tool shed to the brush area. The puppies didn't notice. They still attempted to get under the shed.

After getting angrier because I didn't really have time to deal with this, my tone got sharper. Normally, it's the tone that has an effect on both puppies and though they don't like it, they normally obey. Not today. The bunny was more important.

Since Rory was already halfway under the tool shed, I was worried she might actually get underneath so I picked her up. She wriggled and squirmed, completely focused on getting free, on hunting that bunny. She had time to throw me a, "What do you think you are DOING?" look before she squirmed again. I carried the wriggling pup inside. Sookie, always the more obedient one, followed. I shut the door.

I resumed my morning routine. Then I heard angry yips coming from the family room which contains the backdoor that leads out to the garden. Rory wanted to go back out. Sookie sat innocently by, acting like she didn't want to go out but I knew full well that as soon as the door opened, she'd fly out with her sister.

I told Rory "No" quite firmly and she came inside to sulk. Rather than their usual morning habit of tossing all the toys in their toy box on the floor, having a chomp on a couple, making a couple of others squeak, today they just lay there, sullenly watching me finish up.

Finally, it was time to move into the kitchen. I usually make my travel mug of tea, make the girls go out to do some last minute bathroom business during which time, I ready their crate. Then they usually come in, hop into their crate and then chomp their crate treat- a Waggin' Train chicken breast jerky piece- while I make my quiet and smooth exit out of the back door.

"Usually" is the key word here. Today was not a "usually" kind of day.

Today I reluctantly let my pups out, hoping that my scolding from earlier would get them back on track.

Silly Captain Monkeypants. I'm such an optimist.

They went back on the hunt. I don’t even know if they managed to stop long enough to go to the bathroom. All I know is when I heard excited yips, I was angry. I went out and I know that the real Dog Whisperer would have told me off but I shouted at my puppies. You're not supposed to yell at dogs when they do something bad. You're supposed to practice positive reinforcement.

Well, let me tell you, when two dachshunds decide they want to hunt a rabbit, you can say, "want a biscuit?" all you want and they don't hear you. "Want a biscuit," is usually Rory's favourite phrase. She knows what that means. Today, I might have been speaking Swahili. My temper rose. I'm the Alpha in our house and usually they know it.

It's a natural human reaction when you're angry to yell. I'm not proud but I yelled at my puppies. Sookie, thankfully, understood and she slunk inside, knowing she was in trouble. Rory, my little spunky pile of naughtiness, paid me no mind. I went to get her.

And she'd disappeared.

Yes, Rory W. Gilmore had managed to wriggle under the shed. I was alarmed. What if something bigger than a bunny was under there? What if she couldn't get out? What if….?

Then she emerged, covered with a selection of cobwebs. If she could have smiled, she would have been grinning like a loon, triumphant in her attempts to hunt down that smell. I'm not so sure she can't smile, actually. It certainly looked like it.

I'm guessing she didn't find the actual rabbit, only its scent. She finally succumbed to my command and came inside.

At lunchtime, both puppies managed to get under the shed while my back was turned. I covered up all the entrances I could find but they still kept searching. I sprayed them with the hose and they finally stopped. Tonight, I plan on getting some wood to block all the entrances to underneath the shed.

I did some reading online about my dogs' addiction to rabbits. Apparently, it really is likened to a drug addiction. When certain dogs that were bred to hunt like, say, dachshunds, catch the scent of prey, an endorphin kicks in and they basically get a natural high. Trying to stop them from hunting by offering treats was compared to trying to get a heroin addict to drink a Coke instead of shooting up. It's just not going to happen.

The only thing I can do is try to deter the hunting instinct by distracting them. However, even those that were offering this advice were pretty much saying, "good luck with that!" as they wrote it. Pretty much, I have two hunters on my hands.

My only worry is that they will get so frenzied that they'll find a way out to get to the bunnies that are always so close by. I don't want to have to resort to keeping them on a leash in the garden but that was one of the suggestions. As long as I can't see them finding an escape route, I think I'll just try to prevent any more tool shed burrowing and making sure they don't have any squealing, squirming bunnies in their jaws.

On the plus side, as the weather cools and the leaves fall, it might not be so easy for my little crackheads to scent their prey. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Is there a rehab for dogs?

Happy Tuesday!

Days with Unexpected Twists

Well, I still haven't found a way to take a tropical vacation but today was, at least, not the typical run-of-the mill day at work which may not be the same as jetting off to Aruba but it's something.

It started when I got to the office. I noticed our HR manager was sitting in the car park in front of the building, on her cell phone. "Uh, oh," I thought. "What's up?"

I'm usually the first one in. Today, our HR manager beat me in but we were the only two. Turns out that after our power outage yesterday at work, the electric company hadn't restored power to our building. It was still out.

Our poor HR manager. She's come a long way in the past months. She still has very special moments but, for the most part, she's been doing a good job. She's the type of person who feels responsible for things when she's part of them, even if they're not her fault. Last night, for example, the power company had called her at 1 a.m. to tell her the power had been restored to our office building. She did what most normal people would do: She grunted into the phone, hung it up, relieved and went back to sleep. She trusted the power company which isn't such an extraordinary thing.

Nevertheless, this morning, she was furious at herself for not getting into work early enough to let everyone know there was no power and notify the power company. Given that it was 7 a.m., it wasn't like she was later.

Between us, we managed to let people know and our president sent out a text message to us all to tell us not to go to the office until further notice. Since I was there, I felt like I should stay to help out the HR manager. Besides, a slightly twisted part of me was reveling in the fact that I was at work and I couldn't work and that was a very small adventure but an adventure nonetheless.

When our receptionist showed up along with our tech support guy, we did the logical thing: We decided to go to IHOP for breakfast since it's pretty much in our car park and we could get there in less than 4 minutes. We left a note on my car so that stragglers could see it and we went for breakfast. A couple of others joined us but it was a pretty small group and there was a small sense of glee about us. Honestly, it was like being in school and finding out that the substitute teacher was going to let you watch a movie. Well, not exactly like that but the same sense of "we're getting away with something!"

The power came back on within an hour. On a normal day, I would have groaned but today, I actually had a ton of work to do so having a late start to the day with breakfast was good enoguh for me.

The rest of the day past by in a blur. I had a lot of work to do in preparation for a meeting but I ended up getting it done and, as a bonus, the day moved so quickly, I forgot to keep track of time.

By the time I got home this evening, my brain felt tired. It's the type of evening where curling up with a book is a nice option. Only the slight interruptions of puppy yips has disturbed me and, while I know the yips are probably annoying the neighbours, upon investigation, I discovered that it really wasn't the puppies' fault.

The bunnies have come to take their revenge, you see. Before you picture them with their Rambo gear, taking aim at the puppies, I should probably amend that to say that the bunnies are getting their own back on the puppies. It started with one. Now there are four. The bunnies gather in Possibly-Joe's garden which, as I've mentioned, shares a back fence with mine. The bunnies stay close enough that the puppies can smell them as well as see them but far enough that no amount of noses pushed through the fence can reach them. The puppies, as you can imagine, are going balistic. They so badly want to catch themselves another rabbit but the wretched things aren't stupid. They just quietly graze on the grass as the puppies become a frenzied mass of frustrated barking and futile digging.

I feel bad for the puppies but, at the same time, I'd rather they didn't catch another rabbit. The last one was a bit of a shock. The bird the other night was quite disgusting but not as bad. I've decided that the cicada bugs are nowhere near as disgusting as they used to be. It's all relative, you see.

Yet eventually the puppies give up for a while and peace is restored. I can return to my book and relax in the knowledge that tomorrow is Friday.

It's not a tropical escape but it works for me.

Happy Friday and have a great weekend!

An Odd Dog Day

Today was a weird day. It began by me waking up rather early in the wee, wee hours of the morn' and having trouble getting back to sleep. Thereafter, when I finally did get back to sleep, I had the type of dreams that are not only perplexing, they're also exhausting because when you wake up, you feel like you were doing everything you were in the dream. In my case, it was outrunning a tornado which wasn't successful, by the way. You can't outrun a tornado, at least in a dream. Also, I suspect in reality.

Anyway, the morning at work was one of those where everyone is deadly silent and then suddenly one of the loudest people in the office starts to chit chat with someone outside in the hall. Normally, when there's been some noise, it's not as irritating but when it's been virtually silent with only the sound of keyboards being tapped or mouses (mice?) being clicked, it's rather grating.

It was also a day in which our company president, in one of his more jovial moods, decided to try to entice everyone in our area to join him in planning a skydiving excursion. I used to think skydiving would be fun. These days, my common sense kicks in and duct-tapes the mouth of fun so that it can't speak up. I wouldn't say I'd never do it. It's more that if I do plan on jumping out of a plane, I'd rather prefer it wasn't in the company of, say, our president and my coworkers. Also, I'd rather jump somewhere fun like, say, Hawaii.

I turned down the invitation to join him for lunch to plan the skydive. So did 95% of the people in our area. The other two were just there for the lunch, I'm sure of it.

By the time I did leave for lunch, I was rather looking forward to the comfort and cuddles of the puppies.

Well, it turned out that even that wasn't such an easy thing today. I let them out and I follow, intending to check to see if I have any more zucchini's starting to grow. I hear a strange, high pitched squealing. I turn to look at Rory and I notice she has this wriggling, squirmy, furry grey creature in her mouth and she's shaking it like she does her chew toys.

Horror sunk in as my brain caught up to my eyes and I realized she'd found a baby rabbit. I didn't even know there were any baby rabbits around- I've only ever seen the grown ones. I sprang into action and forced her to drop it. The bunny stupidly did not break for freedom but, rather, headed to the zucchini patch. The dachshunds followed.

No matter how much I tried to shoo them away from the petrified creature, Sookie and Rory were too fast. Sookie was triumphant. This time it was she who had the bunny and was shaking it like a chew toy. The bunny squealed, I shrieked, in anger, fear and just plain shock. I got Sookie to drop it long enough for me to see that the bunny was now injured; its leg was gashed and it was, as the bunnies of Watership Down, might say, tharn. I didn't think. Instead, I swooped in and grabbed it by the scruff of its little neck before Sookie could try again. I paused for a minute, trying to figure out the safest place to release it. I opted for dropping it gently over the fence into Possibly-Joe the plumber's garden. He's the only one around us without any dogs.

The bunny froze. I had a minor meltdown. I might joke about killing bunnies and squirrels and such but, seriously, I'm a huge softy. I can't see an animal hurt. It just upsets me. So I did the sensible thing; I called my dad.

My father is very rational. This is why he's good in situations like this. First of all, he thought the bunny might be hurt so badly it was dying. He told me to kill it. This elicited another wave of horror. I could not kill a bunny. Not a baby one, at least. When I told him the bunny appeared to be moving, he told me to watch it.

Well, the daft creature was only trying to hop back into our garden, wasn't it? Injured leg and all! Sookie and Rory were going balistic, trying to get at it. They had lost all sense of puppyness and were suddenly dedicated, devoted hunters.

I finally managed to scoop up each dog and shut them inside for a while so I could give the bunny a chance to get away.

In the end, I think it did get away but you better believe I'm keeping an eye on Sookie and Rory.

I think the worst part of the whole ordeal is that while I know that my dogs are, well, dogs, I tend to commit the bad flaw that the real Dog Whisperer would chastise- I tend to assign them human characteristics and forget that they're really just dogs. So, when I saw them with the bunny in their mouths, I was more horrified than I ought to have been. My sweet girls who never get meaner than to give me a playful nip when they're scrapping with each other and that's never vicious, more that I'm in the way....here they were, acting like predators.

I was reviled. I was angry with them. How could they be so cruel?

Then I began to think about it a little more logically which was much easier when the bunny had limped away. Dachshunds were bred to hunt small creatures such as rabbits and moles. It's their nature to hunt that which they can catch. This is why Sookie will spend hours stalking and capturing cicadas in the grass, flattening them with her paw, just watching. She's a hunter. Rory, too, will stalk birds, trying to creep up and then getting sulky when they fly away and she doesn't catch them.

Even though, to me, they had hunted an innocent baby rabbit, to them, they had captured a prize. They didn't know it was wrong to do that. It's just what they do. It's in their nature. You can't stop the natural order of things. Just like there is larger prey that would happily capture my puppies- I'm thinking of a rather large mountain lion because that's safe for me to imagine since there aren't any mountains and, thus, mountain lions around here- my puppies hunted that which they could.

It took a while but afterwards, I felt bad for being so angry with them. If I just shifted my perception, I realized that a few centuries ago, they would have only been doing the job that their humans expected. Just because we humans have evolved into big softies who often shudder at the thought of hunting 'innocent creatures', doesn't mean that the dachshund has. In actual fact, I should really have rewarded them for their first 'kill' even though, I hope, they didn't actually killed.

By the time I went back to work, I felt slightly traumatized but better about it. I wasn't angry with them anymore- just a little sad that I have two dogs rather than two cute little teddy-bears who happen to look like dogs.

The rest of the day was only slightly odd. Aside from being rather frustrated at a couple of coworkers, things were pretty much ok. I also learned that my good friend, Ms. P. from Texas, had her own dog trauma today as one of her dogs captured and killed a neighbour's chicken.

It seemed to be an odd-dog day all around.

In the end, I decided after talking to some coworkers and learning that they all had dog vs. baby bunny stories, it wasn't quite so awful. I felt even worse for being angry at my girls so I stopped at Pet Smart on the way home and got them a squeaky monkey to play with. It's about the same size as the baby bunny. I'm hoping it will entice them to play with that rather than hunt the bunny but I'm pretty sure it won't. They are what they are, bunny hunters and all.

And just like with kids, even when they do bad things, you can't help but love them.

Happy Thursday!

I stopped at Pet Smart on the way home

The Call of The Wild...

It was a beautiful day outside today. The humidity went away, the temperature dropped and the breeze picked up. It felt almost like spring, rather than summer, outside.

It was definitely a welcome change from the stifling heat. I don't think it's just me who's been feeling the heat; I noticed the puppies have been a little sluggish- more so when the air is thick and hot outside. Today, they had a lot more energy than they have which they spent chasing each other around the garden.

They're getting so big. I looked at a picture of Sookie which was taken by the people from whom I got her. It was a cute enough picture that I pretty much dropped everything and decided she would be my puppy. She's so tiny compared to how she is now. In a way, it makes me sad that she's growing up so fast but it's one of those things you don't even notice until you look back at a picture and realize how tiny she really was.

Lately, Sookie and Rory's favourite activity in the world is Bunny Hunting. We have two rabbits that like to sit in my vegetable patch. Since they've consumed everything they seem to find tasty- including, but not limited to swiss chard, corn, sunflowers and eggplants- fortunately they seem to be doing no more damage than sitting on my plants.

Rory and Sookie try to take care of my rabbit problem. Now, when I let them out of their crate, they go, excitedly, to the back door where they proceed to jump very high as they they think they can turn the handle themselves. The minute I open the door, they tear at full speed to the vegetable garden. You can practically see the skid marks.

Nine times out of ten, the blasted rabbits are there. They're fast, I'll give them that. What I don't understand is that the big bunnies seem able to shrink to the point that they can squeeze through a tiny hole in the fence. It drives the puppies a little crazy because they can't even fit their nose through the same hole. Believe me, they try. I've seen them lying down on the ground with their noses pushed through the holes in the fence, desperately trying to get to the rabbit.

The rabbit, being a bit of an evil bunny, has taken to sitting about four feet away from the bunnies and just casually eating the grass in Possibly-Joe's yard, just behind the fence at the bottom of our garden. It sits there, defiantly watching the puppies as it slowly chews. The puppies bark. Then they try to dig. No matter how furious they try to unearth the secret way to the bunny, they're not successful.

Now the original bunny has brought a friend and the two of them have taken to sitting there, lazily watching the puppies as they furiously bark. It's as though they're just out for an evening jaunt and they're having one of those lazy conversations two friends do when they're just sitting together, sprawled out in the sun. Or, more likely, they're just making fun of the puppies in their secret bunny way.

Poor Rory and Sookie try so hard to get to the rabbit but it seems to be in vain. To make matters worse, we seem to have an angry squirrel that has taken residence in the sapling that's just way too tall for the puppies to reach but low enough that they can see it. It's taken to making peculiar squirrel noises at them which sounds like a cross between yelling, spitting and squealing.

Naturally, the puppies try to get the squirrel but, fortunately for me, they can't climb trees. I'm quite glad about that.

Sometimes I wonder if there's some kind of communication system between the neighbourhood wildlife as to whose gardens are the best to inhabit for a) safety, b) yummy snacks and c) entertainment value. I'd say we have the last two, at the very least. We don't see the same sort of creatures in the Dog Whisperer's garden.

Last week, as I was driving to work, I saw a racoon ambling along the road. It was a skinny, ragged thing and I seriously think it gave me a dirty look as I watched it. It slowly hunched its way across the road and down into a storm drain. I'm actually waiting for it to get the word that our garden is fun for creatures of most types, as long as they can outrun two little dachshund puppies. I have a feeling that the racoon might be in trouble there but I wouldn't be surprise if it tried.

For now, as long as the puppies can't dig their way out and the rabbits leave my zucchini, asparagus, cucumbers and tomatoes alone, I think I can live with the wildlife whether it's sadistical bunnies, shouting squirrels or crotchety old racoons.

You'd never believe I live in a city, would you?

Happy Wednesday!

Bunnies Make Everything Better, Even Mowing the Lawn

Let me start by saying that I feel like my post yesterday came across as a little too harsh, almost as though were judging my Midwestern peers and coming out sounding mean. When I wrote the blog, I tried hard to present it strictly from my point of view, rather than a factual analysis of the way people really are. Also, perhaps some of it is my fault, perhaps I should attempt to make friends in other ways than work. It's something I'll give some thought to once I feel like I've settled in from moving to a new house. It's a hard thing though to balance a full time job and trying to be a writer. Sometimes I feel hypocritical saying I'm lonely when, truly, my passion in life, writing, means loneliness might be inevitable.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that if I've offended people with my slightly skewered viewpoint, I apologize.

Moving on, it's Thursday. I'm glad for that. The week itself has flown by in some ways; work has kept me busy and life at home has also been busy.

Last night, I had to mow the lawn. I seriously am rather amazed at how quickly that grass grows. While I mowed, I was watched for some time by a bunny who was sitting a safe distance away in the yard behind mine. He was lying down, resting on his front paws, just watching. I wondered if he was just amused at us humans for our seemingly futile attempts to keep the grass at bay when Mr. Bunny knows full well, it'll just grow again. I also wondered if he was a little irritated that I was diminishing his grazing-source. He may very well be the bunny who sits on my lawn and has a snack every evening.

I'm a little suspicious of the bunnies now. I just planted a herb garden with nothing but culinary herbs: oregano, sage, thyme, tarragon, chives, parsley and mint. It was looking noticeably flatter last night when I mowed, almost as though it had been sat on. Since there were no bunny-sized bites out of the plants, I can't accuse them of making a snack out of my herbs but I'm definitely going to keep an eye on that. I did throw out some baby carrots a few times last week, thinking it might be nice for the bunnies to have a non-grass food source. The carrots vanished so I hope that means the rabbits ate them.

Still, I'm feeling slightly more domesticated these days. I'm getting into the habits that are normal to a homeowner. Wednesday nights are the night that the rubbish needs to go out to be picked up by the dustman in the mornings. So, now, Wednesday nights, I drag out my dustbin to the curb along with the rest of my neighbours. It's actually strangely satisfying. When I lived in the apartment, it was more a question of having to take the rubbish out and throw it in the dumpster whenever I was motivated. Now, I can just put it all outside and just put it on the curb once a week. It's quite fun; it's a little like the tooth fairy when you're a kid. You put that rubbish out and in the mornings it's vanished. I've yet to hear the sound of the the Rumpke Rubbish Trucks in the morning either. I've decided that for now, it's one of those mystical happenings. I don't want to see it being picked up. The mysterious disappearance of my garbage is rather a fun thing to behold, especially when I've put grass clippings in there. It's as close to Harry Potter magic as I'm likely to get.

I've also been continuing my cooking trend. I got some tomatillos and jalapenos at the farmer's market on Saturday so I made roasted tomatillo salsa verde the other night. I have to say, it was pretty delicious. I like it a little spicy so the jalapenos added the right amount of kick. I've also learned from prior experience that if you chop jalapenos with exposed hands, no matter how many times you wash them, you'll still feel a burn from the peppers if you accidentally touch or lips or, worse, rub your eyes. Thus I used gloves which proved to be a wise choice. I just have to remember not to use the gloves for anything else.

I'm blaming the Food Network for my cooking again. Now I have Direct TV, it's easy to watch the Food Network and I find too many of the shows to be highly watchable. They make me hungry and they make cooking look easy. It's fun but sometimes a little time-consuming. I find myself deciding to cook and it's after 8 p.m. before it's time to eat. Still, it is nice to resist the urge to order a pizza and use my fresh vegetables instead. Summer is great for fresh produce and I'm definitely making the most of it.

So, Captain Monkeypants is settling down into her new house. It's feeling more like home every day and I love the freedom I have in being a homeowner. I still can't lie and say I've decided that mowing the lawn is fun but it's becoming part of my weekly routine and that is definitely an improvement. It's also more fun if you have a bunny for company. Just as long as he stays out of my garden.

Happy Thursday.