Wabbits

For as long as I can remember, we had pets in our family, and usually of the tiny fluffy variety; ruffly squeaky guinea pigs, soft as butter bunny rabbits, all of whom seemed entirely mad, rats with crazy eyes and a hamster that surprised us all with its demise and subsequent resurrection (I have rarely trusted a rodent since)...even the occasional chicken, also fluffy, but much better generally at producing eggs...

I remember reading My Family and Other Animals by the lovely Gerald Durrell and thinking 'yes, I absolutely identify with that', though of course, our menagerie were hopping around being fluffy in the back garden of house in suburban Chester, slightly less dramatic (and possibly a bit more problematic for the neighbours) than Durrell's childhood home of Corfu...

Now I'm bigger, I still talk of my family and other animals, usually during weekend trips to the supermarket (if I can, I leave them in the cafe, at least then I know they won't get lost in the vegetable aisle or purchase a pony by mistake), but after the sad demise of my last rescue cat, the only animals I really keep around are of the crocheted variety.  For example, it's Easter in a few weeks, and I am currently crocheting up a veritable bundle of flopsy bunnies:

Now, if I can only get myself in hand and get my etsy shop opened (perhaps I have been eating too much soporific lettuce, just like the flopsy bunnies!), you might even be able to purchase one of these little beauties to hide a chocolate egg for your nearest and dearest this Easter...or next Easter...Easter 2018?

Until then, I'll just have to find a way to explain to my other half that that 12 pack of creme eggs in the house are for 'size reference only', and are really not for eating...wish me luck!