random thoughts – Day 1,566 – (Monday) – show time

Groundhog matinee.

There was a lot going on for a Monday. There was the nonsense left over from late on Friday to be dealt with and new, incomplete project requests that require the interrogation skill of a detective to eke out enough info to understand what is being asked for. There were the unfortunate recurring issues and delays with one major vendor. There were new vendor issues that we thought were resolved a year ago with a different vendor. 

Basically, there were several days’ worth of oddities crammed into one work day. Maybe it was to make up for the holiday later in the week. It wasn't boring. It wasn't awful. At the end of the day, it was pretty ok.

Outside the home office window, the backyard wildlife was especially cute. In between stretches of clouds and sunshine, a light rain around 1:30, more clouds, blazing sunshine, a heavy downpour around 3:30, and then more sun and clouds, there was some frolicking of backyard critters.

Bunny supper theater.

The early wildlife matinee featured the two young groundhogs. They were free of visible adult groundhog supervision as they posed and ate and sniffed the air. They froze like statues when a car chirped in the neighbor’s driveway and then fled to safety under the shed when the engine started. This repeated a couple times.

After a trip to the gym, there was a front row seat to the evening wildlife show. The dinner theater featured the first sighting of two bunnies together in the back yard. They posed and ate and sniffed the air. Ears twitched. They froze like statues at things I couldn’t see or hear. 

The bunnies mostly kept their distance from each other, but a couple times, one got too close to the other. The first bunny approached and then the other bunny leapt straight up in the air and then relocated further away. The levitation thing was really cool. 

Kiki, a fluffy blob in repose.

Inside, Kiki lounged under the dining room table. When the  thunder that might have been the noise of a trash truck rumbled right before the downpour, she retreated to the upper half of the staircase. She stayed there during the heavy rain and remained there for the rest of the day. 

During my periodic visits to the staircase, she let me stroke her face, but never for very long. Without a sound she would rearrange herself from the fluffy blob shape to stand and arch her back before moving herself up a step or two away from me. She's pretty good at communicating when she's had enough and removing herself from a situation that annoys her. Usually me.