Little Bunny Foo-Foo

We have a rabbit. It hangs out here by the house, which is fine with me. At least if it’s here, I know it’s not eating produce out in the garden.

I christened it “Foo-Foo,” a name that baffled the husband until we determined that he did not know the song about Little Bunny Foo-Foo hopping through the forest, picking up the field mice and bopping them on the head.

(I sang it for him.)

I often tease him that he came into this world as an adult in a child’s body, but given the bizarre things I’ve pulled out of my brain from my childhood—like a song about a rabbit bopping field mice on the head—maybe he thinks that’s a good thing.

Moving on . . . when he came to bed last night, he said, “Did you know we had a duck?”

“A duck? We don’t have a duck. WS has a duck. It must have wandered over here.”

“It was out by the chicken coop eating scratch grains.”

I will see if it is still here when it gets light out. I think it’s looking for a pond.

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I have alerted the husband that once this garden tour is over, I plan to disappear for a few days. I am not sure when, or where I am going to go, but I need a few days alone not being responsible for anyone or anything. I may also just tell people I am going somewhere but stay here and sew without answering the door or the telephone. I haven’t decided. A few days of sewing in an Airbnb elsewhere would be ideal, but all of my supplies are here. Joanns had New Look patterns on sale this week. They hardly ever go on sale, so I took advantage and bought a couple. I’ve traced them and would like to test them out.

And of course, in the middle of all of this, we had an unexpected development in our pastor search process. It could be a good development, but it comes with time constraints. When it rains, it pours.

I begged off attending the Homestead Foundation board meeting last night. I want to live in a world where we have board meetings at 6 am, when I am happy and fresh and ready to tackle the day, instead of at 7 pm when I am tired and cranky and done with people. I gave Susan (the president) my report about the progress of the website. The garden tour booklet is done and I am going to start printing and assembling it today. I need to do some baking on Thursday; each of the gardens will have refreshments, and I’d like to serve some lavender shortbread and lavender lemonade. Lavender is one of the things my garden is known for, and seedlings from my plants have been shared all over this valley. The lavender hedges should be close to peak for the garden tour on Saturday. Have I mentioned that it’s going to be 91 degrees? We’ll be making use of that pop-up canopy I bought before the plant sale.

I also need to clean up the greenhouse. The garden looks reasonably good. It will just need some touching up here and there, and the husband has promised to do the trimming with the big weedeater some night this week.

And it occurred to me yesterday that it’s almost August. This is one of the weird things about living in Montana—summer is so short anyway that when we have a cold spring and cold June, summer feels even shorter than normal. I don’t mind; I prefer cooler weather, but the fact that fall is breathing down our necks just as the weather is starting to warm up is a bit disconcerting.

The young woman who does my eyebrow waxing got caught out on Flathead Lake Saturday during that hailstorm. She has bruises on her arms. We were joking yesterday that we should create a tourism campaign about not coming to Montana, because Montana will try to kill you, in lots of creative and horrifying ways.