Well that didn’t last long,  twenty-four hours tops.

When we arrived home yesterday evening, Barley and Charlotte were at the French doors looking in.

I cracked open the door and Barley wedged his fat little fur-ball self through.

Why such weak resolve Flower you ask?

I would rather WORK than WORRY.

I was awake several times during the night wondering how much the temperature had dropped.

Then I heard noises outside and wondered if it was some predator breaking into the pen.

About dawn,  when I was awakened by Mr. Bluebird pecking at the window,

I had the thought that if Barley’s bottom was all ready wet he would get chilled and then $ickne$$ would follow…

So they are inside where it is warm and dry.

Anybody want to assist in a Bunny Brazilian over the holidays?

A FOOL and her bunnies are not parted.

FLOW