Captain’s Log Where the Magic Happens

The kittens and I are finishing up stories and listening to the rain. I finally had to shut the window – the rain-soaked rabbit brush smelled so dang good, but it just got a little too chilly for me. Fall is in the air; summer is waning. 

Early morning kitten zoomies that normally take place outdoors got called on account of the rain, so Magic Mike and Hector had the zoomies indoors this morning. Another beautiful plant is down – crashed onto the floor, shattered terra cotta and dirt, roots, and Heartleaf Philodendron scattered at the foot of the bookcase where its friend, the Orange Prince Pathos, was sacrificed yesterday. 

The little devils then graduated to the closet, where they proceeded to climb long dresses to the top shelf, snagging silk and chiffon fabric hem-to-collar of several formerly pretty outfits. 

With a tip of the hat to Stu's guest column this week, "Talk Like a Pirate," it was feeling fairly mutinous around here, but now they've settled down for naps, tucked between the laptop and the wall behind my desk, purring away their soothing song as I steadily type away. 

Few things in life are better than a kitten purring. 

Rain in the rabbit brush and roosters are crowing as the sun peaks over the Stillwater. Peaceful, perfect mornings at the Boyer Bunny Ranch before the chaos of press day starts and my paying job begins. 

It's a cool thing to run the gamut nearly every day between this sort of solitude and serenity of Nevada desert mornings to the excitement of local newspapering to the oddities of federal service that come with working across the state in our rural communities for the USDA. Sometimes, I feel a little schizophrenic swapping hats throughout the day, one minute pulling together the strangest of bedfellows to build a water tank so a community can grow and the next covering a story about a school district struggling to educate its kids. Then, the day ends with grooming bunnies, getting a saddle on a green horse, or planting grass seed. 

"My life is rich and full," a good friend used to chant when things got a little Western. She was my first boss and would tell me, "Rachel, if you can't get your work done in 24 hours a day, you're going to have to start working nights." Apparently, I've always been like this. 

So, while we enjoy every little part of life we can (as Lorretta Guazzini instructed), we'll be right here…

…Keeping you Posted.

Rach