My little foray into gardening has reached a tipping point.

I think some re-potting needed to be done about two weeks ago. I didn't do it. Now my lettuces have turned brown and wilty. Even the bunnies won't eat them. They could possibly be salvaged, but I'm lazy, and a bit over the gardening lark.

I may re-pot my baby basils tomorrow..it's unlikely though...

The peas are almost dead. I should probably just feed them to the bunnies and be done with it, but then I'll feel like a total failure at gardening. Again.

I did get some real true honest peas. I grewed them myself and I took photos for proof!



To prevent birds benefiting from my labours, and also because they were starting to shrivel, I picked all six of my peas.

But then I put them somewhere I cannot remember, and currently I am unable to locate them.

I think I shall stick to frozen.

So I'm thinking that at this point in time, although she is pissed to no longer be the centre of attention, Binky is pretty pleased that the focus has changed.

Sometimes a picture says it all.

Two kids and a house in the suburbs. And all that jazz.


Binky will always be my first born, though she is grumpy and can be a bitch, I love her much. She's blowing her baby fur at the moment, and consequently looks a bit strange. Her colour has changed a bit now that she's a teenager, and she's getting little white-tipped patches on her nose and ears.

My girl is growing up. She's getting fat too, but I don't like to judge.


But then, in spite of our happy family...I may have done something naughty on Friday...and well... Mochi will always be my second born...


Mochii is docile, and tiny, and not a biter or a wriggler. And though she did wee on me on Saturday, I'm trying very hard not to succumb to favouritism.

Some background for you: when a bunny lives in a house, and has free roam of the house and its nice soft carpet, and does little in the way of actual-rabbit-behaviour, the bunny gets long toenails. And, because a bunny only has feet (rather than pads like cats and dogs), the nails must be trimmed very regularly so that the small bunny foot sits on the ground properly.

They don't really tell you this when you are looking at pictures of unbearably cute baby bunnies.

I googled and looked at many youtubes for advice on how to wrangle and nail-trim, but all the videos used huge, docile rabbits as their models. Huge docile bunnies, unlike Binky, who is tiny and wriggly and had, at that point, long sharp nails that were (and continue to be...) capable of much damage.

All the advice suggested trancing, or wrapping in bunny burrito, or holding the naked bunny firmly enough that the clipping could be done (HAH effing HAHAH
AHAHAH.....sorry, I just fell off my chair at that last one). You have to bear in mind, that up until about 3 weeks ago I couldn't even hold the damn rabbit without losing at least one eyeball and gaining a new bleeding scratch. What to do, what to do?

We mastered it eventually.

Hello there, dedicated readers. I know there are at least two of you.

You may recognise parts of the following story, if you are one of the aforementioned dedicated readers. You may recognise it from this post, which was written some time ago, and contained the following photograph.

 I'm re-including the photograph for more than one reason:

1. I'd just like to remind you all that my friend Lauren is awesome
2. My hair looked good that night
3. The two moles visible on my face (plus some) are no longer with us. A story containing gory pictures, for another time (which, like usual, I will probably forget to write about).

Anyway, for those of you who aren't dedicated readers, and who couldn't be bothered going and reading the original post, here's a summary. I had this watch, it was sweet and I liked it lots. It was genuine "Armani". I know it was genuine because I bought it on eBay, ya know.

It was sometimes slightly problematic, because the face was uber stylish and it didn't have any numbers on it, and it may, on occasion, have caused me to turn up to things an hour earlier than was strictly necessary. Maybe that happened more than once.

On the night of the above photo, I was pretty toasted with my awesome friend Lauren, and I lost the watch. Somewhere between a very poor game of pool and making out with Lauren's friend Tim (who, for the record, is a bastard), I lost my pretty awesome watch.

I was kind of annoyed.

And now I am on a search. It's a serious search, but slightly hampered currently, because the Accounts Department (ie. Rob) have suggested that my company credit card be handed over to them for the time being. A-holes. 

I can dream though right...? Right? Anyone...?


- DKNY green

I don't know what's happened in the last two weeks, but suddenly I want everything. 

Every single pretty thing. 

I want it. NOW.






Sweet Jesus, if tax return time doesn't come soon, I think I will lose my shit.

My bastard rabbit has eaten the power cable for my MacBook, and also I need to buy a new copy of Photoshop, so posting may be light for a while.

Please, pretend that you do sort of care. Pretty please...

You know you guys, I have goals.

Goals in life, which are best not thought about, as they are amorphous and lacking in direction.

Goals for the day at hand, which currently include "getting out of bed" and "brushing hair". That kind of thing.

Goals for the week ahead, for example "don't eat too much cake" and "stay away from Subway cookies".

Goals for the spending of my tax return. These range from the worthy, "put in to savings"... to the not so worthy, "should I go for the sky blue KitchenAid or the almond cream". The wistful, "some for going on holidays" to the desperate, "man, I'm totally effed up if I don't get as much as I calculated..."

And then there is this, "maybe I will finally get my tattoo". The tattoo I have been thinking about, and planning for, and mulling over, for two or three years now. Maybe I will finally get it.

Here is my inspiration. I shall leave the imagination up to you.

There is grandeur. Do you see it to?