Cabin Mama

Humor and woodsy wisdom by Laura Lollar

A Bunny in the Bedroom

When we first moved to Colorado Springs, the kids and I squeezed ourselves into a 600 square foot apartment. It was our first “starter home” being out on our own. I couldn’t afford much but I could manage a two-bedroom one bath with boys in one room and girls in another. At bedtime, I’d sit in my corner with my daughter sound asleep at the other end of the room, and I’d read or I’d write. I was as quiet as a mouse and kept the lights dim.

So it was understandable I second guessed myself the night I saw a quick movement out of the corner of my eye. At first I thought I was imagining things and went back to my book. But there it was again! Something darted across the room and went under the dresser as quick as a bunny.

By golly, It WAS a bunny!

I whispered out loud, “There’s a bunny in our bedroom!” Then louder, “There’s a BUNNY in our bedroom!!!” Finally I shouted, “WHO BROUGHT A DAMNED RABBIT INTO THE HOUSE?!?”

Like a flash, I had all three kids in my room jumping up and down and screaming, “It’s a bunny, it’s a bunny!” And of course the more they screamed and ran around, the more that poor rabbit flew frantically from under one piece of furniture to another. And you know they can flatten themselves down and squeeze behind just about anything.

We finally found the little varmint but it made a dash for the door with all three kids chasing it down the hall into our tiny living room. I ran for the broom, thinking I could catch it that way.

Silly girl! You can’t catch a rabbit with a broom. Just like you can’t catch a fish with your hands, so I’ve been told. But I was giving it my best.

Round and round the living room we went, chasing that cute little critter. Then my oldest had a brilliant idea and opened the apartment door. That’s right. Let the neighbors in on the fun. They’ll love us for it.

Out the rabbit hopped into the hallway looking like a Walt Disney character panting in sheer desperation with each one of my pajama clad kids in hot pursuit.

We violated quiet hours big time that night. But finally Mom came to the rescue with her handy dandy broom and herded that baby bunny down the apartment hallway. Three kids shrieking with joy drew a few unhappy faces from various apartments. But that little creature did the smart thing and made a dash through the open door and out into the night.

“Fun’s over gang,” I said. “Back to bed.”

I herded them back to the apartment where we had a major “come to Jesus” meeting. “I want to know who brought a bunny into our apartment?” I asked, looking down at three flushed faces still wound up after their evening excitement. They got a big kick out of seeing mom chasing a rabbit around in her nightgown with a broom.

One pair of big blue eyes met mine, then looked down at the floor. He couldn’t help it. He was grinning like crazy and proud as a peacock. He said, “I did, Mom.”

“Brett, where did you find the rabbit?”

“I chased him around in circles when I was out working with Clyde, then I finally caught him and put him in my lunch bag,” he said. “Clyde said I’d never be able to catch him, but I did when he wasn’t watching.”

Poor kid. I didn’t have enough money to buy him a real toy. He had to go and chase down a live one out on the plains.

I couldn’t be mad at him. It made for a fun evening and something none of us will ever forget. It’s all great story material and I’m just glad it wasn’t a baby skunk.

Critter Capers

Friends couldn’t believe I would leave my clean, spacious condo in town and move to an old, tiny cabin way back in the woods. “One winter out there and you’ll beg to come back,” they said. “Think of the work just to keep it clean. You’ll cut off a toe; you’ve never chopped wood in your life. And what about the bugs and the bears?!?”

They were right about the bugs.

They crawled up out of the drainpipe, cornering me as I scooted to the back of the tub. I grabbed the shampoo and tried to inflict a swift and sudsy death. Desperately, I shoved the soap with one toe and prayed the darned thing wouldn’t hop. Down it went, into the depths of dank and rusted drainpipes. But my sense of security was shattered — no longer could I shower with my eyes closed.

It didn’t stop in the bathroom. The cats dropped three-legged colorless crickets on the top of my bed, and I’d watch in horror as they hopped in circles. (The crickets, not the cats.) From then on, any twitch or tickle I felt as I slept became imagined insects crawling over the covers and up to my face.

The drama didn’t stop inside the four walls. Outside, crows would swooping and invade the pines, watching and waiting for a chance to dive-bomb my cats. Flickers drilled their jackhammer beaks into bug infested logs on the sides of my home. The most dastardly among them made straight for the metal gutters leaving me frustrated and furious as I raced for the door and watched them fly off, taunting me with their cackling caw, caw, caw!

You’d think that leaving the door open to let in the breeze would be a welcoming sight, but it ruined relationships. After a triangle-headed alligator lizard walked in and under the feet of a friend, she joined the ranks of those who declined my invites to visit. They’d say, “Um, it’s too far of a drive. Find me on Facebook.”

But there were furry little fellows who filled the void. Black squirrels and red squirrels kept me company all day and into the night. They chewed a hole through the logs and got into the attic. I’d lay in my bed and hear them over my head, munching away on the wood and the wires.

Snakes hid in the walls between drywall and logs, crawling out from behind a south facing window and sunning themselves on the ledge by our front door. They slithered from under the heat runs, discouraging my efforts to clean up the mouse droppings. After months at the cabin with no snakes in sight, I’d hoped they’d moved on. And they had. My neighbors discovered a nest in their attic and threw all 18 of them back over the fence and into my yard.

It’s almost a decade since that fateful day when we moved to the cabin. Each morning I’d open the door, breathe in the piney fresh air and count the bugs, the birds and my blessings. I wouldn’t have traded it for anything!

Cats Gone Crazy

There I was, wrapping gifts on my bed with plastic bags, wrapping paper, boxes and ribbons laying around. Both cats were in the room and they were having a heyday playing with the paper clippings and plastic wrappers. It was a beautiful summer day and I had both the big windows open looking out over the distant hills and the street below. The breeze fluttered through and made for a very calm and peaceful afternoon.

But then it happened. Missy got herself tangled up in a plastic bag and it freaked her out! She tore around on the bed trying to get the bag off, then leapt to the floor and did laps around the bedroom. The bag sailed behind her like a piece of unfurled boat canvas. I tried to no avail to catch her. She was too fast for me and as much as I tried, she eluded my grasp darting around the bed, under the dresser and over the headboard.

That wasn’t all! Our other cat Fuzzy, saw Missy’s turmoil and tore off after her. I don’t know why he freaked out too, but emotions must be as catchy in animals as they are with humans.

So now I had TWO cats streaking around the bedroom in circles becoming more frantic by the minute. And it seemed like this went on for ages! I ran to the bedroom door and slammed it shut to keep them from getting out, which seemed to make them even more panicky. Before I could catch either one of them, Missy leapt towards the window. She flew straight through the screen and sailed out into the open air. Two. Stories. Down! Then, Fuzzy jumped right out after her!

Two cats sailed out into the wild blue yonder with nothing below to catch them but grass. I ran to the window to see if they were okay and when I looked down the cats were nowhere to be seen.

However, below stood a stunned couple standing stock still looking up at me as I looked down at them. Their mouths were wide open, then they burst into laughter. Doubled over and barely able to breathe, the woman said, “That’s about the funniest thing we’ve ever seen! Cats flying out of a window — it isn’t something you see everyday!”

It was pretty funny when I think back on it. Fortunately the cats were okay and I was able to corral them back into the house. They were shaken, panting hard and scared as the dickens! It’ll teach me to leave plastic bags lying around where they can get into them. I should resort to something less tempting like plastic netting — either that or shut my windows!

Grocery Shopping Pet Peeves

I’m not crazy about shopping. Especially when it comes to grocery shopping; my goal is to get in and get out as quick as possible. It’s an exhausting process to make all those decisions, so I try to be as efficient as possible. I make a list and ALWAYS try to eat something beforehand. Otherwise, you know what they say, you’ll grab anything in the store that looks like it would taste yummy. For me, that would be everything in the bakery department and the ice cream aisle!

Coupons have never been my thing, and I also don’t believe in driving around to a number of different stores to scoop up the specials. The wear and tear on my psyche navigating traffic and crazy drivers, along with the extra time it takes is just not worth it. Unless we’re talking about wild salmon that arrives in the summer. I’d make a trip to the moon for wild salmon!

I have a system once I get to the store. I start at the back, work my way through all the aisles that feature our favorite items. Once in a while I have to circle back to find something I’d forgotten or passed by without noticing. But it’s not very often. I hate having to revisit my steps.

So you can just imagine how frustrating it is when I get to the store and find they’ve reorganized the shelves.

Good grief, why do they do that? You get used to a certain configuration and then they go and mix everything up. Is it because they want you to stay in the store longer and make more trips up and down the aisles to “discover” tempting new items? Or is it because some market research company figured out a better way to display foodstuffs so we vulnerable, unsuspecting consumers would spend more money?

It’s one of my biggest pet peeves!

But here’s another one: the 2 liter soda bottles they put on the top shelf, organized in some kind of rack that makes it IMPOSSIBLE for a short little person like me to wrestle them free. I struggle with it for a few minutes and then (horrors!) I stand on the bottom shelf. I know, I know. That’s a big risk because what if my weight breaks the shelf and all those items crash to the floor? What if the grocery clerks hiding behind cameras up there in the ceiling look down and see what I’m doing? I just know they’d send out some kind of security person who would issue a shopping citation. “Code blue on aisle four!” You can only get so many of those warnings, before they ban you from the store and you have to find somewhere else to go. Then, you guessed it, you have to adjust to another new configuration and until you do, it’s like wandering in the desert looking for the promised land!

So I’m very cautious about standing on that bottom shelf. Ultimately, I look around and eyeball the tall people to find someone who looks like they’d be willing to help me. Most people take pity on me as they watch me jumping up and down to dislodge some out of reach item.

Another pet peeve is when I buy ice cream and end up behind a person in the checkout line who takes FOREVER. I stand there watching the container soften then race to unload it into the trunk of my hot car. A smarter person would bring an ice chest with them, wouldn’t they? But I like to live on the edge and am not about to change my ways at this ripe old age.

You know what else drives me crazy? The person who stops in the middle of the aisle to check their grocery list. Then they give you a dirty look when you politely say “excuse me” and try to wiggle your cart past them. I cut elderly folks and parents with a passel of kids hanging off their cart a lot of slack though. But some people are just clueless. You know how you can sense if someone is standing behind you? Well, these people were either born without that chip or they just don’t care.

It occurs to me with all this whining I’m doing that I ought to be thankful to have so much variety to choose from. I should appreciate the ability to find food on the shelves in great quantities. We have so much plenty in this country compared to other places in the world. I shouldn’t be such a complainer.

So I’ll stop. But before I go, one last thing. Am I the only one who ends up with the cart that likes to veer to the left or right, has the one wheel that goes “thump, thump, thump” or slows to a skid when you least expect it? I didn’t think so.