bunnies

let me preface this by saying that i love bunnies.

rabbits, bunnies, whatever. i love the word bunny, and i am a grown woman. i make no apologies for this.

i realize that once you've had a bunny of your own, they lose some of their cute points. this really goes for most things in life-familiarity breeds contempt, right? at any rate, i have never owned a rabbit as a pet, mostly because a) you have to keep them outside, which always seems to be a strange thing to do to a pet (i grew up in the suburbs-don't judge me), b) more often than not, they meet with gruesome and untimely deaths, c) many are ill-tempered and bite (probably because of the aforementioned items), and d)they're much more fun to stroke lovingly and oooo and aaaaah over than they are to care for on a daily basis. in this regard, bunnies are like boats (or kids or power tools)--you should know someone who has one of their own that they don't mind sharing from time to time.

that being said, kim and i were discussing the finer points of felting, which led to a mohair/angora discussion*, and i found a bunny that both horrifies and fascinates me. it will haunt my dreams.
behold:*for any interested parties: angora goats make mohair, but angora comes from angora rabbits. knowledge is power.