Their encore where they came into the middle of the venue to sing this
venue shot
today's first fit of snow
our backyard with more snow to follow
Things have been packed and busy this week, which will mean that this will probably be my only post. This past week was great with Amy and Tim's Christmas gathering, an impromptu decision to go to a ceilidh, some lovely meals out (hello Thai food, hello Moroccan). The highlight of this week has been to go see Mumford and Sons in Newcastle which was really good. Such a talented, soulful bunch. The week has also included a full day working at the Literature and Philosophic Society in Newcastle, which not only is beautiful but also allows you to read books while drinking tea and eating biscuits. I obviously did some great work that day. And because life always picks up at the end of term, not only are there loads of Christmassy events, but all final work is due. Working like a banshee at the minute in order to get a huge paper into my supervisor before the weekend. This weekend I'm off to Holland to visit Sophie and I'm super-excited.
This week has snowed twice. I grew up in the snow, so I shouldn't become paralytically paranoid every time it falls now, but I can't help but think: do I have enough butter, milk, and eggs to survive in case we get cut off? Will we get snowed in? What if I can't make it back to my flat? Obviously lived a little too long in rural countryside where snow equals power cuts and isolation and possibly Donner party methods of survival.
In other news, I've taken over the blog for MEMSA which you can find here: http://durhammemsa.wordpress.com/ It's the postgraduate medieval and early modern society and it's more of an academic- resource, but you may be curious how people so completely removed from an age of technology deal with things like the innernet. I'm also freaking out about New Years Resolutions. Have you decided yours already?
Hope you're well and enjoying the beginning of December! Who has already eaten all the chocolate from their advent calendars? xx
Today, we're off to Cornwall for ten days. It sounds like we're on perpetual holiday, but really, as most of our jobs right now can be done from anywhere, we'll be toiling away just as much, just in new settings.
We'll be taking Fly with us, Fran's brown Labrador. All of the Goodison pets have been named after insects. [I've adopted this tradition and named mine so far after ships: Indy and Felix.] Fly is ten and has a grey muzzle and reminds me of our first black lab, Amelia. I like Fly because he loves to go on walks as much as I do. Sometimes he'll go on runs with me, but only if he feels like it. The other day, I tried to get Fly to go on a walk with me, while Fran had stayed to sit on a bench. Once we rounded the bend and Fly didn't see Fran, he just stopped and stared at the bend, expecting Fran to come round. He refused to go any further until I took him back to Fran. Not even food could sway him.
Fly is bear. He's big boned and has the appetite of a t-rex. He seems to be perpetually on a diet. But he is master at one thing: stealing food. He'll get the bread from the bread bin. He'll even get the lamb in the Sunday roast. He once opened a cupboard and ate Fran's Melba toast.
The other hilarious quality Fly possesses is his possessiveness. At least I think that's what it is. Anytime Fran so much places a hand on me in the same vicinity as Fly, he let's out a howl and squirms his way in between the two of us. It will start off with a low woof. Then, once more, more gruff. Two, then three, until he's positively clamoring for attention. It's not only me, though. Even his mother can't hug Fran without Fly squirming. Needless to say, my father is a great fan of this dog.
I think Fly likes the bunnies too, or just wants to play with them as he play bows when they're flopping about the run. Sadly, the bunnies will be staying behind and I'll miss them.
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Some of you have been asking about Fran's job. He applied for a position with Blue Tutors, a nationwide company that provides private tutoring lessons for school children. It's a client by client basis, and I'm not sure how permanent it is, but it's definitely something in the right direction. They've even asked him to star in their teaching videos, so he's off to Bath in the coming weeks. On the road to stardom? Let's hope!
"And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life?
(As if any man really knew aught of my life,
Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of my real life,
Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections
I seek for my own use to trace out here.)"
- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
I have a fear of some stranger one day reading through my journals and diaries, attempting to construe the semblance of my life, and write a book about it that's titled, Well folks, she truly was crazy. This irrationality causes me to journal less or when I do, consider constructing some code of symbols, or writing in futhork, to make it less easy to pry. I wonder if all of adulthood is simply trying to outgrow childish paranoia and habits. Whenever I write, I think it is more or less exactly Whitman's words, trying to find a a few "faint clews" to know myself better. (Why do you write, if you do?)
On a more somber note, I'm convinced my bunnies hate me. Indy flipped when I attempted to touch her, and Felix, well, his thoughts were bent only on escape. I finished a Rabbit Guide book today, and I became really depressed in the section on rabbit behavior. My bunnies show none of the friendly affections possible, and are characterized by frightened postures, in addition to their loud thump of annoyance every time I put them back down from holding them. In racking my memory recalling what I might have done to them, I can't help but think that any real children ever will be rather bad idea...
Felix the escape artist
However, I cannot possibly listen to this song and still remain sad. The summer I graduated from college was characterized by Eve and I driving around listening to the, then newest album, of the Scissor Sisters. I can only say that their eminent release of a new album leaves me feeling a bit nostalgic for my senior summer, especially as both my siblings don the cap and gown and embark upon theirs. "Only the Horses" not only brings back old memories, but also an excitement for this summer (the long, oh so long hours of daylight!), but most imporantly, makes me want to dance in my socks right across the hardwood kitchen floor.
Watched these bunnies outgrow their run. (Indy escaped, again).
Finished reading this book Made friends with this robin while I nanny. [He needs a name-- any ideas?] Watched this boy at St Cath's babies and toddlers Was a dead weight on a pub quiz with this pair of lit encyclopodes Received this hysterical letter from my sister about eating tomatoes Went to breakfast with this young man And attempted to make Valentines
Received a really good review from my old prof., on this children's story MS. Attempt to publish, possibly?
I hope your weeks were full and that one day, you have lots of wrinkles around your eyes from all the joys you've known. And this TV show definitely put about 20 of them on my face from crying, falling off my chair, and laughing so hard: New Girl. I now desperately want bangs. x's and o's
When he began chasing Indy around the room, causing her to wag her tail peevishly, and give her not a moment's peace, something had to be done. To take the manhood out of a male is terrible thing to do at the best of times, but to see something nigh on rape occur in one's on garden was practically beyond limit. So the vet was phoned and the appointment made and kept. The wee groggy boy, the golden puffle as Thing 1 calls him, was placed back in my arms, all medicated and not in pain. He would have to be kept apart from Indy for a few days for him to recover. But Felix languished. I tempted him with lettuce and celery and parsnip and carrots, and his favorite dry food, all to no avail. He puttered about, in no seeming sign of pain, though I bet adjusting to the sudden decrease of hormones. He did not eat that night, nor the next morning, nor the next afternoon. He munched some straw. But poor thing! I began to vaguely think of calling the doctor, when another plan came to my mind. I introduced him again to Indy. To the unaccustomed eye, Felix was annoying and Indy annoyed. She still ran away from him and wagged her tail peevishly. But that night Felix started eating again. Maybe he finally grew too hungry. Maybe he grew territorial and wanted, like a younger brother, to make sure he got his fair share before it was gobbled by others. But I think otherwise. Though the poor thing nearly starved, I found it entirely sweet that affection can take the form of withdrawal symptoms even in the animal kingdom.
What Indy and Felix think of marriage. After both being neutered, I don't really blame them. You should have seen what they thought of Death at Pemberley.
Back up. Felix had come into his manhood and began getting busy with the neutered Indy, which did not make her too happy. Lots of grunting, chases around, upset bowls of food. So made an appointment with the vet and Felix is now [maybe no so] happily recovering from his surgery. Due to this, the Felix needs to be relocated to a different area with a towel for bedding so his wound doesn't get infected. A lot of good quality time with Felee. But this means Indy's stayed in her hutch all alone.
After coming back from work, I sauntered down to Indy's hutch to give her the good ol bowl of food and water and hug, to find that she wasn't there! Her hutch was cold, her food bowl was gone, AND the side hutch door was unlocked. At first I thought, the worst had happened: her food bowl was gone and so was the bunny! Robbed! Then, being the brilliant PhD student I am, realized I had taken it to the vet to make sure it was the correct size and the bunnies weren't overweight. Using Sherlock Holmes brilliant methods of deduction, figured someone had either a.) let the bunny out of the cage, b.) stolen the bunny, or c.) I had forgetten to lock it the night before. For a brief moment I thought of my mema, how everytime she went to count her chickens, was certain that someone had stolen one of them the previouis night. Taking genetic similiarities into consideration, thought the most likely option was that either I or some person or persons who remain unknown had let her out of her cage.
Well its dark at 4 these days, so at 6 it was pitch black. The light from the apartments were thin, but thanks to a fancy new app from my smartphone call "screen light" I had something nearly as good as a torch. I kept listening for the sounds of the rabbit scurrying in the garden, but there was nothing. Anytime she had escaped before, she had always loved to hide in the only briar patch in our yard. Making my way along the way, I wound my way to the briar patch and sure enough there she was.
Looking at her eyes peer up at me from the briar patch, I thought of Uncle Remus and Brar Rabbit, and how Brar Fox had tricked Brar Rabbit, and Brar Rabbit had hit the Tar Baby, and Brar Rabbit tricked Brar Fox into throwing him into the Briar Patch, and Brar Rabbit (or was it Indy?) yelling back, "Born and bred in the Briar Patch Brar Fox, born and bed in the briar patch!"
I laugh to myself in my unmeritted success in being able to raise a Southern rabbit in the midst of Scotland, and though that may reflect more on my abilities of deduction than the nature of a rabbit, I'll take it.
Over Christmas, the bunnies are staying with my gorgeous flat-mate Louise. Louise lives in the Borders of Scotland and her family very kindly offered to watch them over the Christmas holidays. I can't begin to express how unbelievably grateful I am to her as I know the bunnies are having a wonderful vacation.
This is Louise with the bunnies taking them home on a snowy Saturday in December
This is the bunnies in the cozy Gladstone conservatory. This photo captures the bunnies' personalities perfectly: Indy the adventurer and Felix happy at home.
Now let's just hope the bunnies behave and don't drive the Gladstones mad. Apparently, Felix has reached manhood and has been giving Indy no peace. First order of business in the New Year will be to get Felix fixed.
This first photo is from ages ago, but it shows the bunnies semi-spooning, and its so adorable when they just flop happily like that.
The bunnies are well and I think they love living outside. Their coats are getting slightly coarser due to the cold weather, and I imagine will be v. snug in their hutch.
Outside they live in a hutch at the back of a stone-walled garden. Since I don't have a run (yet-- Fran is building me one!!), I put red leads on them and let them hop about the garden, using the leads to catch them when play-time is up. I have ideas for insulating the hutch which involves a card-board box and straw or newspaper, and is a pretty ingenius idea that I took from a rabbit blog.
I think they are getting along ok, though Indy does occasionally do this to Felix, even outside:
No, they are not making babies. This is a sign of dominance where the dominant rabbit will straddle the lesser rabbit. I feel so badly for Felix as he IS the male and if he wasn't so darn tiny, the male usually takes that position. Indy however, was mine first, and is much larger, so she takes the dominant role here. I'm a bit disappointed becaues the girl promised me a Lionhead, not a dwarf lionhead, and Felix is definitely a dwarf Lionhead, so size here is rather an issue. Fingers crossed that this odd symbiotic relationship will work.
Bunzos, as F likes to call them. The bunnies are now happily situated in a hutch outside next to the garden wall.
They like the space outside and the chance to eat more green things. They love the tall grass. However to let them run around the garden, I must put them on leads and they dislike putting these on and off. But they love the freedom it gives them.
However, I have noticed things that begin to distress me. My handling of the rabbits in a hutch is only to pick them up or down and rabbits HATE being held. I'm afraid I'm being associated with a bad-guy. Second, to train the rabbits to come when called or eat off your lap you must sit down and spend time, but these rabbits don't want much to do with me when they have so much space. Hoping to have them as house bunnies again one day.
Each day I've let them run around the garden for 20 minutes, generally about dusk. They seem to love this, and then I feed and water them. It gives me discipline in my day and routine I didn't have before, which is a good thing.
I've learned alot about bunny interactions within the first week. When we introduced Indy to Felix she seemed to like him, but once he was on 'her' territory she straddled him and pinned him down-- it was so graphic, I was worried she'd hurt him. I threw her off the poor guy 2 or 3 times. This was a mistake. Rabbits need to assert dominance in order to cohabitate. Today Indy pinned Felix again and though I was really upset at first, let it go. However afterwards instead of pooing all over the place, they sat down peaceably next to each and lounged in the most adorable way ever. I've learned rabbits need to sort out who's boss, and this isn't an unpleasant thing for them-- its natural and leads to a more harmonious relationship.
Felix is incredibly happy. He flops and rolls on his back in a way like a dog rolls in the grass. However he is definitely not as smart as Indy. He spent five minutes yesterday trying to get at the water bottle from the outside of the hutch while the spiggot faced inside. He'd drunk from it a 100 times before, but no... He also messes with Indy when she's obviously NOT in the mood. He chases her around the hutch until she rolls up in a corner and begins grunting. That grunt means, stay away, I'm angry, keep it up buddy and I'll bite. Does it bother him? Not a bit. He snuggles right down next to her, like an annoying little brother that wants affection, and begins to groom her back. So sweet!
Indy and Felix have adopted a habit of spooning which should be illegal as its so cute. [I must have used cute about 1000 times in this post!] However, Indy still isn't keen to let Felix into her cage [different from hutch]. She wags her tail and most bunny websites tell us rabbits don't wag their tales. Its a lie: they do, and it means I'm seriously annoyed --go away. I think its more to do with an infringement of territory than irritation by proximity. But Felix is a trooper and doesn't give two hoots about Indy's territorial behavior, and its obvious more than anything, he just wants to be near her. Today while I sat cross-legged, they curled up between my feet.
Will post pictures soon. I'm not allowed to have them in my room, and its easier to get pictures inside than outside. Once we go on holiday will have the freedom to let them indoor rabbits for a while.
Felix is a 3-month old sooty fawn lion head rabbit. The main question is, why? Why did you get another bunny? The short answer: a fit of madness.
The long answer: Indy can no longer be an indoor rabbit and we have to move her outside to a hutch. At first I worried, but the more I thought about it, the better I reasoned it would be. Not only will she get to be outdoors (and weren't all bunnies made for that?), but she can dig in the straw and have a bit more room to run. Indy being indoors had human companionship for the most part, so I couldn't bear the thought of her going outside in a hutch all by herself for ever. So the best solution was to get her a companion as pretty much everyone recommends that bunnies should live with other bunnies. And the best pairing is neutered male and female relationships as same-sex tend to get aggressive. Fair enough, but this meant neutering Indy. I'd been thinking about it anyway, because it prevents cancer and lessens moodswings, but I didn't like the reality of it at all.
For a while, Fran has compared me to Indy. Indy is sweet and loveable, but tricky: you have to read her really well and sense when she doesn't want to be touched or if she's in a grumpy mood and would rather be left alone. On the other hand, she'll dash about the room and jump into your lap and nose your face and just make you feel like the world is a good place. Its kind of like the poem:
'There was a little girl, who had a little curl
right in the middle of her forehead.
And when she was good, she was very very good,
but when she was bad, she was horrid.'
My family has quoted this at me for years, and I'll admit unashamedly its true for me and Indy. (Especially if it involves no food and little sleep!)
If I'm like Indy, then Felix is just like Fran. This bunny is so laid-back! He's easy going and friendly, curious, but easy to please, adventurous and fearless, and generally just adorable. (You can take this analogy as far as you dare...) Felix means 'happy' and like Indy, is also the name of (a British navy) ship. I've only had him for 24 hours so I can't really tell loads about him, but I'm pleased and think that once Indy recovers from her operation, they'll be a perfect pairing.
I've done it. I've gone and sent little Indy to the surgery and had her spaded. It was an emotional morning. I was praying that morning for some people and realized I was more worried about Indy's surgery than I was about who I was praying for! Awful moment of self-realization. [working on these flaws.] I knew the surgery should be just fine, but still. The pain after it would be awful to see. The doctor was excellent and I felt really confident in her ability and overall I liked the vet clinic. We did see a German shepherd who was gorgeous and so friendly to humans, but went absolutely mental when he saw another dog. It made me think of AFP.
When we got back to see Indy just shuddering, it was terrible. She could barely limp into her cage, but wouldn't let me touch her. She just lay in a corner and stared at me from a drug-induced state. At first she wouldn't eat, but finally lettuce held sway, and its the only thing she's eaten in the last 24 hours. Even today I glimpsed her shaved underbelly and shuddered. Its hard to see something you love in so much pain, even if you know it's good for them. But its worse knowing that I caused it. I've been reading through Isaiah and it seems that there could be a spiritual metaphor there, but will spare the explicit analogy. If I'm this upset over a bunny, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to have kids.
Anyone to look at our bunny Indy would think that she was beautiful, curious, and generall a cuddly rabbit. From much of the time we've had her it seems to have been this way. But within the past several weeks, Indy has started grunting at us, not wanting to be touched, especially picked up, not even stroked, and running away to the opposite side of the room from us. What does one do with a recalcitrant bunny?
Immediately, the first thought was to give her away or to set her free in Fran's garden at home, as they have an abundance, if not a nuissance, of rabbits. But somehow, I viewed this stupid rabbit as God's grace to me, and giving up on the rabbit almost seemed like a spiritual symbol. (Life gets more complicated when a cigar is no longer just a cigar). So through copious amounts of research, I adopted a new plan of action.
I'd let Indy approach me, I'd coo and speak gently, but would only touch her when she came real close. I'd stroke her after a treat or when she lay down in her relaxed sprawl. This didn't immediately show its effects straight away. I've found I have to spend an hour with her a day, just sitting by her cage, letting her get used to me, and if I was lucky, would get to stroke her a few times.
What I've learned: patience and persistance. I need to spend time with this pet each day. Not 'I'll read a book and you can run around while I keep half an eye on you' time, but 'I'll sit here patiently and give you my undivided attention' time. That she first responds to curiousity first, anger second, and food third. That she is not a stupid bunny, unfortunately, but rather like her name, Indefatigable.
Now, Indy loves to run around the room and ocasionally she'll do a really cute flick and twitch while she's in mid-air. Apparently, thats a sign that they're happy and I well believe it. (Ok, really only the first 15 seconds of this is worth watching)
A couple weeks ago, I was skyping Angela and she pulled up her bunny to say 'hey' and she offhanded mentioned I should get one. It was like a shaft into my being, and suddenly I wanted a bunny. I was inconsolable and finally, dear Fran agreed he'd take me to get one. We went to a farm in Sprouston-Kelso where a lady had a little of rex-lion hair crosses. I let Fran pick her out, and he chose the runt, a small black and white bunny. On the drive back, we narrowed down names and finally settled on Indy, mostly in honor of the ship The Indefatigable in the Hornblower TV Series. So here she is:
