Musings on Musing

Dear Readers,

It has come to my attention that my story of the arrival of Charles Wallace left some of you feeling concerned. Many of you felt that Hula rather pounced on the naïve little rabbit and was about to take advantage of him.

Hula, my friends, was deeply wounded.

First and foremost she would like to point out that she takes her responsibilities as a Muse – the Delicate Torch Bearer of Other Creatures’ Hopes and Aspirations – very seriously. She is above all else a professional. Furthermore she would never offer her services to the untalented or the uninspired. “I’m a professional muse, not a magician. I can’t make talent, just inspire it,” she is often quoted as saying.

That said, all the rabbits must earn their keep. As Beatrix is fond of saying, “Corn doesn’t grow on trees – it grows on stalks that comes from seeds, which must be planted. But before they can be planted, the seeds have to be bought.” (Beatrix is not very good at short, pithy, quotable sayings.) The point however, is that most things in life require either work or money and often times both. Rabbit Rule Number 14 states that all the rabbits are expected to “be self supporting through their own contributions.”

At Rabbit Run, the most successful rabbit is Chef Thelma with her daily patisserie, the No Foam Cafe, and her weekend bistro, the Supper Pup. Recognizing this, the rest of the rabbits must support her in her efforts. And these two ventures keep the whole lot of them very busy. Every day there is food to prep, items to bake, dishes to wash and customers to wait on.

Harry also gardens, keeping some of his produce for the house and café. What’s left over he sells in attractive baskets on the counter of the No Foam. And of course he continues to hold on to his dream of someday making a go of it as a professional mini golfer.

Louise makes art. Some of her pieces have sold at the No Foam but she has also become an invaluable help to her sister Thelma in the kitchen, decorating the cakes and cookies and insuring that both the café and the bistro have a certain air of bucolic bunny chic.

After Thelma, Fiver probably makes the most consistent money as a violinist playing in jazz ensembles. Though in a pinch he’s not above playing weddings, Bar Mitzvahs and Bunny Hops.

Although Bunnie would rather spend all her time designing a wardrobe that would reflect her sense of fashion sophistication, she also readily contributes to the household economy by repairing the small appliances around the house and in the kitchen.

Beatrix of course keeps the books for both the household and for Chef Thelma.

Of course Hula helps out with all this. She’s come up with some of Chef Thelma’s most successful products. Rabbit Paws: Hula’s idea. Chocolate fruitcake, hers too. Hula was the one who suggested that Louise should create “A Look” in the café, something with little ruffley baskets that Bunnie could put together, to hold the produce that Harry sells in the café.

But oftentimes Hula’s contributions are much harder to put a finger on. So for example the other day Bunnie heard Fiver playing a wondrous new tune on his violin, as sprightly as Vivaldi, but with an jazzy bistro rhythm that feels like Stephane Grappelli.

“That’s beautiful,” said Bunnie, when he was finished. “Did you write that?”

“Yes,” said Fiver. “I was sitting on the porch in the yard, and Hula pointed out the way all the leaves on the tree were shimmering in the wind. I’d never noticed them until she pointed it out, and when I was watching, this melody popped into my head.”

Everyone in Rabbit Run has a similar story of how some offhand remark or observation of Hula’s has inspired them to be their Bunny Best. And so they hold Hula in the very highest respect. But on the other hand, Hula’s particular talent doesn’t pull in a lot of cash. As Beatrix says, “Musing is hard to monetize.” Or, to quote S.J. Perleman, “The Muse is a Tough Buck.”

And so, since being a professional muse doesn’t bring in any specific income, Hula tries to make herself useful in more tangible ways. Thus it is that every morning she is one of the first rabbits up, turning on the oven, checking the rabbit paw orders and prepping the muffin tins and baking sheets.

The life of a muse is a life of undefined direction, a life of Disciplined Whimsy if you will. It’s extremely difficult, however, to discipline your whimsy if you have to throw all your efforts into getting up before the crack of dawn. So it was that Hula struck up this deal with Charles Wallace. She would show Charles what to do in the
kitchen first thing during his stay and in return she, Hula, would inspire him in his creative thinking.

Charles Wallace thought this was an excellent arrangement as he was always ready for the next adventure and he also had always secretly suspected that he was a clever little rabbit and that his mother, Madeleine, whom he lived with, didn’t always appreciate his (as Hula put it) “native talents.”

Next time, we shall resume our story of Charles Wallace’s visit, and the resulting brouhaha.