Rabbit Substitutionary Atonement.

Skip is molting.  Neither one of us is used to calling 20 degrees a heatwave but that's what we're dealing with up here.  Skip decided a few days ago it was time for a new fur coat to beef up the warmth factor.

Now, every time Skip molts, I participate in a theological object lesson.  Today was the day...

I hold Skip and he burrows his head in my elbow.  I grab a warm, damp cloth and start to pull out as much fur as possible.  You see, if Skip keeps grooming his fur while it's molting, well, he'll just get a bad stomach ache and stop eating altogether (molting can be lethal for bunnies).  Bad news.  So, I try to help him along. 

*I realized today that what I really need is a rabbit sized vacuum cleaner so I could use that to sort of slurp up all the fur that is shedding right off his back... but, the noise would throw him over the edge...

During this grooming session, I am miserable and so is Skip.  He doesn't like being messed with and he has no idea that I'm helping him.  I'm miserable because I have loads of bunches of bunny fur ALL over me.  Imagine stopping in the middle of Kansas and holding a gigantic magnet for tumble weeds... except it's bunny fur tumble weeds... but, same concept.

Anyway, bunny fur is the best kind of fur but it does pose problems.  It is so fine and light that it is hard to get off your hands, clothes, face, hair etc.  It just floats in the air... I get bunny fur in my contacts, in my ears, and somehow in my nose and mouth... it just floats up and you just breathe bunny fur clouds... yak. 

15 minutes later, I let Skip down to hop freely and I look at myself.  Now I look like a bunny.  The cleanup will involve much laundry, vacuuming the floor, and re-installing my contacts.  But, then I look at Skip and he seems so genuinely happy to be groomed, hopping around the room.  He doesn't look disheveled anymore and he won't get a stomach ache tonight.

He doesn't thank me (in fact he's still mad at me right now for what he thinks was an uncomfortable nuisance.)  But, I feel deeply satisfied to have acted as a good shepherd to this one bunny.  Things in the world were theologically in tune again.  And, as usual, the moment passed and now I'm doing laundry and breathing bunny fur...

1st Big Snow!

I got out the snow boots this morning!  Great quiet, sticky snow.  Lots and lots of it!  And I still made it to work and school!

Yankees don't think I'm funny...

It's true.  I have tried and tried to put my finger on why Yankees do not seem to understand me. 

Example:
The other day, I was working at the office and a Prof I had never met walked in.

Dr. Such and such: "Hello.  I don't think I've met you before.  I'm Dr. Such and such.  And you are..."
Me: "Oh, my name is Ruth.  It's nice to meet you."
Dr. Such and such: "And, Ruth, what do you do?"

*Aside: Recently, I have been really working on not seeking my identity in what I do or what title I have.  So, when I was asked this question, I was trying hard not to define myself by cultural standards of what makes somebody somebody.  So, this is the background story going on in my head.  Plus, I was feeling punchy.

Me: "Well, let's see... I know how to brush my teeth!"
Dr. Such and such:..............long awkward pause..............

*Aside: At this point, Dr. Such and such is looking at me with that all too familiar "look."  Have you seen it before on people's faces?  It's the look of "is she mentally or socially challenged?" 

Sara (in the office with me): "Ruth is a Master of Theology student working in the Doctor of Ministry office this year.  She is studying Neo-Paganism."
Dr. Such and such: "Oh, that's great.  Well, I'll see you around." *Still not getting it.
Me: "Yes.  Certainly."

And that was that.  I cannot tell you how frequently I walk away from a situation and feel completely misunderstood.  A few possibilities for what is going on here...

1.  Yankees don't understand humor that makes fun of oneself.  They prefer humor that makes fun of others.  This isn't always a bad thing, sometimes their joking is a way of saying, "Hey, you are one of us!"  It's just different.
2.  Yankees have a greater tendency to take themselves pretty seriously.  It's because it's so darn cold.  Trust me, there's a connection.
3.  I'm an Ashevillian.  And, well, we seem weird no matter where we go. 

: )