Seasons Out of Turn

It was a couple days after Halloween, and Hula, Beatrix and Bunnie went to the drugstore to buy ingredients for Bunnie’s new “Nighttime Fur Revitalizing Formula.” As they were wandering the aisles, it was impossible for Hula not to notice the Christmas decorations that were already out. Her brow furrowed deeply as she surveyed all the blinking lights, Christmas merchandise and piped-in holiday music.

“Oh dear,” she kept saying in a quiet voice as they perused the aisles. “Oh my!” she exclaimed as she went down one particular row full of holiday decorations, Christmas wrap and what-not.

In consternation, Hula trotted back outside and double-checked the weather. Just as she remembered, it was a clear, crisp November day with bright blue skies. The leaves of a nearby maple were just beginning to turn red.

As she rejoined Bunnie and Beatrix in line at the register, Hula could restrain herself no longer: “Well I think it’s just a travesty.”

“What is?” responded Beatrix.

“All the Christmas decorations,” said Hula. “I don’t approve. It isn’t even Thanksgiving!”

“Well, merchants only have a small window of opportunity to sell their holiday wares, “said Beatrix. “Six-eight weeks at the most. And when you think of how much of the health of a retail business depends on holiday shopping, can you really blame them?”

“Well, I don’t approve,” said Hula. “Where’s the joy of each season? Thanksgiving is fall, Christmas is winter. We’re skipping over one perfectly lovely holiday to get the sales of another. As a Professional Muse, I don’t approve.”

Beatrix shifted uncomfortably and nervously tugged at her tutu. “Ah… oh… you don't?’

“Of course not,” declared Hula. “Shilling Christmas in November is just not Muse Worthy!

“Mmmm. Ah. Well,” said Beatrix, self consciously looking down at her toes. “…I see…”

What Beatrix couldn’t bring herself to tell Hula is that the Rabbit Run online store has four new Christmas designs available for your holiday shopping. As always, you can have them printed on shirts, caps, book bags or just about anything else your heart desires (and Stamp La Jolla has tons of rubber stamps with holiday designs for all your card-making needs).

Just don’t tell Hula till December, please. At the moment she’s writing a formal letter of complaint to the drugstore urging Holiday Restraint and Autumnal Recognition.

COMING NEXT: A Visit from Charles Wallace (in which Harry's small cousin comes to Rabbit Run for Thanksgiving)

The Business of Easter

Easter is lovely and all, but it’s not the rabbits very most favorite holiday. Actually each rabbit has their own holiday that they prefer and Hula tends to adopt a different holiday every year so as to be a more Sensitive and Diverse Rabbit. And frankly as she puts it, “Life is short. One should never miss an opportunity to celebrate.” This year, for example, she’s embracing Flag Day.

Easter used to be Bunnie’s favorite because every year she made herself a new outfit and there was always tea and rabbit paws and quiche with asparagus and fresh fruit in the early afternoon. All the rabbits would take turns hiding the Easter eggs and whoever found the most was the winner and would get a plastic egg filled with jelly beans. Even if you never won a round of the Easter Egg hunt, all the other winners would share and it was just the best and loveliest of days no matter what.

Granted the whole Easter Bunny stereotype was a little tiresome, but that was easy to overlook on a beautiful spring morning with a new outfit and rabbit paws fresh from the oven.

But then everything changed. It all started one year when Hula rather innocently remarked that what might be nice, what might be fun, would be having an Easter egg hunt open to the to the public. And that’s really all it took to get Beatrix thinking and the next thing you knew, the rabbits were staging the Best Bunny Hunt & Real Rabbit Round Up. Because, as Beatrix said, “Is it such a terrible thing for us to play into an expectations for a little cold hard cash?”

So these days Bunnie no longer makes a new outfit, but recycles one from a previous year because she only wears it for a few hours as the hostess at the gate of BBH&RRRU. Easter is all business now.

For the last few years they’ve staged an egg hunt in a grassy meadow in the hills of up above Rabbit Run. They hand-decorate dozens and dozens of eggs, then rope off a specially designated egg-hunt area and charge admission. On Easter morning, Hula and Harry go door to door, drumming up customers. They knock, and before the sleepy occupant who has finally comes to the door, can manage out one word, Hula says, “Easter Egg hunt run by real rabbits!” Harry thrusts a flyer into a startled hand and the two of them run off.

An egg hunt operated by actual rabbits is more than most people can resist, and they have turn a tidy profit most years. So even with all the work and getting their paws stained by egg dye and dealing with big kids who try to take more eggs than is polite and the little ones who pull on the rabbits ears to see if they’re real, Easter usually works out pretty well.

Except last year. Last year the rabbits had a real row about the eternal hard-boiled eggs vs. plastic eggs issue. Rabbits were taking sides, and that lead to paw-pointing, and before the whole thing was settled the fur really flew. On top of all that, Easter morning was cold and drizzly. Attendance was way down, they barely made any money at all, especially because they had invested in both real eggs AND plastic eggs. So there was another round of paw-pointing as to whose fault the whole thing was. In the end they spent their profits on a night at the movies, but each rabbit had to pay for their own popcorn. It was a real low point.

So this year they’re trying hard to turn things around. But when you have seven rabbits with strong opinions, that can lead to tensions.

This year the big conflict arose when Beatrix suggested that they introduce chocolate eggs into the festivities. “People expect them,” she said. “We could really up our profit if we added them to the line.”

“I’ve seen our budget for food this year and we can’t afford good chocolate,” said Chef Thelma.

“Isn’t there anything we can afford?” wondered Hula. “I do like chocolate.”

“What, that cheap stuff in the bright foil wrappers that they sell at the drugstore?” asked Chef Thelma. “My reputation as a chef is on the line. I couldn’t possibly be associated with that stuff.”

“But you love some of that stuff!” said an exasperated Beatrix. “What about chocolate covered malt in the shape of bird eggs. And what about the spring colored M&M’s? last year put them on cupcakes at the No Foam Cafe from the beginning of March till the end of May. What about that?”

“Ah well” said Thelma reflecting, “the M&M is a confection all onto itself, and the malt balls are my own private indulgence. But with freshly made chocolate eggs, we’re talking about my public image. As a serious chef I simply can’t indorse an inferior product.”

“But chocolate eggs are a seasonal imperative! How can we compete if we don’t give the people what they want.”

“Forget it,” said Thelma. “I’m not serving derivative chocolate drivel to please the masses”

“You’re impossible,” said Beatrix, her fur bristling.

Hula tried to intervene. “What if we made something else out of chocolate, like cookies or cakes? That way we could use good chocolate, but it would go further.”

Beatrix stomped her foot. “Because it’s Easter! People don’t talk about Easter cookies or Easter cakes, they talk about eggs! Easter eggs!”

“I’m not using cheap chocolate,” Thelma reiterated.

“If we use the fancy stuff we won’t make any money,” said Beatrix.

“How come everything has to be about money anyway?” asked Hula.

Beatrix looked like steam was going to come out of her ears. “Because money is what pays for the food and the house and popcorn at the movies! Where have you been all your rabbit life?!”

Hula pondered that a moment, not the least offended by Beatrix’s outburst. “Flying kites, mostly,” she said, and wandered off.

copyright 2008 Denise Beauchamp

The Big Blog Brouhaha

It was a quiet Saturday night and Beatrix was showing Hula, as best she could, the intricacies of the internet. Now Hula is not an ignorant little rabbit, but the world wide web was a mostly new thing to her. The life of a professional muse leaves little time for such diversions.

So there they were, pawing around the web and it was all interesting enough until Beatrix suggested that they Google "Hula Bunny" -- and that's when things took a turn for the curious, for none of the rabbits had any idea as to how popular they had become as rubber stamps.

Of course they remember posing for the drawings and they recall the eagerness of waiting to be discovered. But the life of a rabbit is very busy, there's fresh cocoa to be brewed in the winter, iced tea to be steeped in the summer, kites to fly, gardens to till, crops to be harvested; in the hubbub of daily living, well, they kind of forgot.

They forgot, that is, until Beatrix showed Hula how to Google herself. What followed was an escalating series of shocks and revelations. The rabbits couldn't believe what they saw and read. There they were in dozens of handcrafted greeting cards in situations that startled and surprised them.

The first site that the search linked to was the Stamp LaJolla image gallery -- where many different stampers have posted artwork featuring Hula and the other rabbits. Looking at all the different interpretations of herself, Hula's ears shot up, and she put her paw to her mouth.

"They made my grass skirt pink! Can they make my skirt pink?" inquired a rather startled Hula.

"Well, it is a free market economy," pointed out Beatrix.

Hula looked from the pink skirt on the screen to the lush green skirt she was wearing, and back to the pink one on the screen again, her brow furrowing in consternation. "Maybe there's something wrong with the computer."

"I don't think so," said Beatrix.

Bunnie wander into the office and saw Hula and Beatrix puzzling over the images. "What's going on?" said Bunnie.

"There's something wrong with Beatrix's computer. Somebody made a card out of me except my skirt looks pink," explained Hula.

"There's nothing wrong with my computer," exclaimed Beatrix rather hotly.

Bunnie peered at the gallery of greeting cards featuring the rabbits on the screen. "For heavens sake, they made me lavender," exclaimed Bunnie.

"It's simply artistical license," Beatrix pointed out.

"But I look as if I've been dipped in Easter egg dye!" stated a clearly perturbed Bunnie.
Hula began thwacking the back of the monitor.

"Hey what are you doing?" said an alarmed Beatrix.

"I'm fixing the color. People do this all the time to their TVs. Sometimes it helps"

"There's nothing wrong with my computer!" said an exasperated Beatrix. "Here let's try another weblog."

She clicked the mouse and the next site was Carol Burrage's Mother's Little Helper, with a lovely card featuring Hula doing the hula hoop.

There", said Beatrix, "That's a nice one of you doing the Hula Hoop." Hula and Bunnie examined the screen closely.

"Oh my, you do look good in that one, don't you?" said Bunnie. "Look at how your skirt is flying out behind you. Are you using two Hula Hoops? You look so professional" Hula beamed.

Bunnie continued, "And she writes such nice things. See right here she says, 'I chose this Hula Bunnie because he reminded me of my friend Kristi's son, Bo."

"WHAT!" exclaimed Hula, her ears pointing straight to the ceiling. "That lady thinks I'm a boy!"

What's all the flap going on in here?" said Louise who now poked her head in the office.

"Ooh, come look, we're on the internet!" And this lady thinks Hula's A BOY!" exclaimed Bunnie.

"Really?" said Louise. "Do they mention me in particular. You know, I've been thinking lately that I should start to post some of my art on the web. That's what so many of today's artists are doing. Say Beatrix, could you help me with that?"

"Oh absolutely," said Beatrix. "And might I add that I think that's a very smart business move. A very sound way to broaden you clientele base with very minimal financial ..."

"That lady thinks I'm a boy!" exclaimed Hula, her voice rising an octave. "How could she think I'm a boy? I'm wearing a grass skirt for heaven's sake!"

"Oh, don't take it so personally," said Louise in a very practical fashion. "You are, after all, not wearing a top. And humans have a hard time seeing past their own anatomy,"

"But you're not wearing a top either!" said an exasperated Hula.

"But that's different," said Louise dismissively, "I'm wearing a tutu."

As all this was going on Beatrix was carefully reading the web site. "Actually, everyone," she said, squinting at the computer screen a little closer, "aside from Bunnie, I think this nice lady thinks we're all boys. Including you, Louise."

"But that's ridiculous!" said an incredulous Louise. "I'm wearing a tutu!"

"Well you aren't wearing a top and you know how humans are," said Hula. "Can't see past their own anatomy and all that stuff."

"Harry!" shouted Beatrix.

Now Harry poked his head in too. "What's up B?"

"Take a memo, sir!"

"Right," said Harry grabbing up Beatrix's memo clipboard. (Beatrix has a dozen clipboards - but that's a story for another time.)

"We need to send out an inter-internet memo: any resident of Rabbit Run seen wearing grass skirts, tutus or..."

"Formal gowns," inserted a very earnest Bunnie. Louise and Hula glared at her.

"What," said an exasperated Bunnie. "I don't want people to get the wrong idea about me. It could ruin my image!"

"What image?" they shot back in unison.

"As I was saying!" said Beatrix, in what she hoped was an authoritative way. "Any rabbit wearing any skirt of any kind is absolutely, positively 100% female. Send that out immediately."

"Actually," said Harry thoughtfully, "My uncle Fergus in Scotland wears a kilt, and he's not female."

Beatrix clapped her paw to her forehead in frustration. "Harry!"

Just then Fiver returned home from a gig. "What's going on here?" he said, as he surveyed the little circle of glaring rabbits. "Everyone's fur seems to be on end."

"We're viewing websites that feature us," said Beatrix. "We were just moving on to a different site," she added emphatically.

"Really?" said a curious and excited Fiver. "Can I look too?"

"Of course," said Beatrix. "only please try to stay calm. Everyone's getting much too fur fluffed today."

The next site was called All Inked Up, which featured a lovely Christmas card of Bunnie and a giant candy cane.

"Hey, look!" said Bunnie. "She put bangles on my leggings!"

"They're not half bad," said Hula.

"Take a look at this," said Harry. "She's having a contest. 'Pick your favorite rabbit stamp.' All these people are voting on us."

"Who won?" said Bunnie. "Did I win?"

"They seem to like the one of Hula at the stamp convention," said Beatrix, "but I think we all got a few votes."

"Hey!" said Harry. "Even I got one! Someone likes me shaving!"

"Did I get any votes?" said Fiver. "I don't see any for me."

"Don't feel bad," said Hula sympathetically. "It's only because there are hardly any stamps with you in the first place. You had a gig the day we were posing."

"But I'm very popular!" said Bunnie, a bit conceitedly. "Look! They like Bath Time Bunnie, that's me. And Bunnie's Finest! And...!"

"...Princess Me-No-Wanna," interrupted Louise.

"Princess Me-No-Wanna?!" said Bunnie. "They can't call me that! Can they call me that? We have to make them change that."

"I think it's too late," said Beatrix.

"Princess Me-No-Wanna!" wailed Bunnie. "One wrong career move and I've been typecast! I'm branded forever! People must think I'm a baby!"

Just then Chef Thelma poked her ears in the office and announced that the kitchen would be closing shortly and this was the last call for cocoa.

"Hey, come look," said Louise, "the Dust Bunnies are on the world wide web!"

"We are?" said a startled Thelma. "Where?"

"Here on Beatrix's computer," said Hula. "Don't be startled," she added solemnly, "you're a rather overcooked tan."

"No I'm not" said Thelma approaching the monitor, "I'm Baby Dove Gray."

"It's artistical license," explained Hula, "you can't fix it by hitting the monitor. I already tried that."

"Will you get your paws off my computer!" said a thoroughly put-out Beatrix.

* * *

Later, drinking cocoa, they all agreed that while it was nice to have people pay attention to them, it was also a bit perturbing. "It's good that people notice," said Bunnie, "but," she continued and her voice rose, "sometimes the assumptions that they make can be so, so ... outright and utterly wrong!" and slapped her little paw on the table in gesture of frustration and resentment.

Harry shot a furtive glance a Hula who was sipping her cocoa reflectively. "I don't think Bunnie's going to forget, 'Princess-Me-No-Wanna,' anytime soon," he whispered

"Mmm hmm," she said and then added, "Fame, it isn't all it's cracked up to be,"

The Cocoa Scientist

     It was Fiver who really took cocoa to another level here at Rabbit Run.
     Chef Thelma of course had an excellent basic recipe, but she was not so interested in experimentation.
     But Fiver, who often came home late after a long gig on a chill evening wanted variety, and so out of necessity he began to tinker with Thelma's cocoa recipe.
     (Fiver doesn't drink coffee. "It's a brutish beverage," he says. "Too sharp. Too insistent. Cocoa is warmer. It envelopes you.")
     At first Fiver's choices were pretty straightforward: a bit of cinnamon, and then later some nutmeg. But nutmeg somehow seemed to "violate the spirit of cocoa." That set him thinking. Cocoa was tricky. You couldn't just throw any old spice into it and have it taste good. It wasn't like tea and coffee; one had to be considerate.
     The next thing he tried was a fresh vanilla bean, which he simmered in the milk before adding the cocoa. It was a pleasant concoction, especially when he was steeping the vanilla in the milk. The scent wafted back to Thelma's room, which is behind the kitchen and brought her out to see who in the world was in the kitchen so late at night. She really couldn't imagine a single other rabbit baking and was quite mystified and then astounded to see Fiver pensively stirring the milk with one paw and gesturing in a circular motion with the other in an effort to draw the aroma of the vanilla and milk to his nose.
     "What's going on here," said Thelma in a quiet, but demanding tone. "Cocoa," was all that Fiver said. And then, "would you pass me the cocoa powder and the measuring spoons please?"
     Well, technically the kitchen isn't really Thelma's. Of course the other rabbits are deferential because, as Hula put it once, "You don't want to bite the paw that feeds you." But really it is a communal kitchen and the dinner rush was long over and the vanilla in the simmering milk smelled lovely. So Thelma passed him her pre-made cocoa mixture and the measuring spoons.
    "Cocoa huh?"
     "Yup."
     "With vanilla eh? Interesting choice" she mused. "Of course the cocoa could overpower the vanilla you know."
     Fiver shot her a look of consternation.
     "I'm just saying that's all. Don't get your fur ruffled!"
     "As a matter of fact," said Fiver, with great dignity, "I'm reducing the cocoa powder to allow the vanilla to have it's proper say."
     "Interesting, interesting..." said Thelma. "Say are you making any extra? I might like a cup myself."
     Of course there was extra. Rabbit rule #123 clearly states that if you make food, always make extra because you never know who else might be hungry.
     And so that was the formal beginning of Fiver's scientific inquiry into the properties of cocoa. Thelma got him a small journal and showed how she made her own recipe entries in her cooking journal. She even allowed that he could keep it on the shelves with hers, but Fiver was so excited to realize that he had stumbled onto cooking something that actually might be good, that he decided to keep his recipe journal in his violin case. That way when interesting ideas about cocoa come to him, which is often the case when he's in the middle of a gig, he can write them down and try them out once he gets home.
     Fiver uses a coffee grinder to pulverize the spices he uses in his cocoa. "That way the true personality of the spice can emerge," he says. Fresh ground cinnamon, for example, gives cocoa an added delicate sweetness with a hint of spiciness, very subtle but sincere.
     Fiver's also tried ground cardamom, cloves, allspice, and he's even used chilies. They give the cocoa some zip. Not everything he tries works of course. But it's always interesting.
     Lately he's branched out into fresh marshmallows. Thelma suggested it and she taught him how to prepare them. They're simple to make, and they take flavors really well. Plus, both marshmallows and cocoa have the added advantage of being, as Fiver says, "paw friendly" - an important quality for a rabbit who earns his living as a musician. "Nobody every cut his paw on a marshmallow," Fiver has observed on a number of occasions.
     When Fiver is making cocoa, all the other rabbits come quick. As Hula says, "Thelma makes a fine cup. But Fiver is a cocoa scientist. He's always taking things to a new level."
     Even Thelma prefers Fiver's cocoa. When he comes home late and she hears the whir of spices in the grinder, she pads into the kitchen to see what he's up to.
     "You think you'll try a bit of ginger tonight?" she'll ask.
     "Possibly..." says Fiver.
     "Or maybe a little orange zest?"
     "Well just have to wait and see what happens," he says.
     And so they stay up into the wee hours, simmering, tasting, working through the flavors. Thelma thinks that Fiver may be even more then a cocoa scientist. She thinks he might even be a cocoa artist.
     Coming from Chef Thelma, that's saying something.

Rainy Days & Rabbit Paws

                                                                                                                                     .

      Today was the first rainy day in a long time. All the rabbits were very excited. They love the rain, and even though they like living in Tujunga, they miss the wetter weather of the places where they used to live.

     This morning they got up early and had a round of fresh baked rabbit paws. Rabbit paws are one of Thelma’s specialties. They’re a bit like scones, but made with whole wheat and honey, so they have a light, nutty sweetness. And they’re shaped like paws of course, with a raison where each paw pad would be.

     All the rabbits love them, although they often get the name wrong, which drives Thelma crazy. This morning Bunnie came in and asked “Are the bunny paws ready?”
     “Rabbit paws!” said Thelma, “and yes, they’re fresh and piping hot.”
     Bunnie held out her paws and Thelma handed her a warm treat. Bunnie sighed and said “Ummm, bunny paws, they’re so divine when they’re warm,” and hopped off.
     “Those are rabbit paws,” Thelma hollered after her. “I made them up, I ought to know.”

     And then Fiver sauntered in. “Ah, I see the rabbit claws are ready…”
     Thelma hopped up and down, waving a wooden spoon. “Paws! Not claws! Paws! Rabbit paws!"
     And so it went.
     After they finished breakfast, the rabbits all put on their rain slickers and went for a walk in the wet. It was a grey, misty, mysterious day. Perfect for thinking thoughts. Hula especially let her mind wander. Hula feels that walking in the quiet of an overcast morning is one of the most opportune times to work on The Muse Manifesto, her encyclopedic compendium of everything that she has learned about the art and craft of being a Working Muse.
        Being a Muse is something Hula is very serious about. That is to say, she does not take it lightly. It takes contemplation, and a touch of mental solitude. Rainy days are perfect for that.
        In fact, it was such a good walk in the rain that the rabbits did it twice – once in the morning and once in the afternoon, just after lunch. The second time Hula was less interested in work and more interested in play. Sometimes she likes to scurry up behind the other rabbits and give them a gentle poke in the back of the head, and make a little noise that sounds a bit like “pling!” – a sound that Hula finds musical and charming: “pling!”
        So today Hula gave most of the other rabbits a surprise poke in the back of the head with this little musical sound that she’s fond of. She calls this game “Touched by the Muse.”
        “You’ll have good ideas later,” she told others. “Wait and see.”
        Most of the other rabbits are very tolerant of this game. Except Thelma. If she’s busy in the kitchen, and most especially if it’s a day when everyone is calling the rabbit paws by the wrong name, and then Hula gets the drop on her and goes “pling!” Thelma can be downright cross.
        “Out! Out! Out of my kitchen!” she said this afternoon. And then she pointed with her wooden spoon toward the door.
        Hula took it in stride, grabbing an extra rabbit paw on her way out. “You’ll thank me later,” she said, “when an especially excellent recipe pops into your head. By the way, these are wonderful bunny biscuits.”
        “Rabbit paws!” shouted Thelma, hopping from foot to foot, “Rabbit paws!”

Copyright © 2007 Denise Bauchamp

A Quick Test

This is just an early test.