I’ve been wandering around, playing nomad. Peggy was up in Alaska for a few weeks, helping out with grandkids, so I took off for a solo trip down the Oregon coast. She no more than returned and the two of us zipped down to the San Francisco Bay Area for a meeting of our book club. Now we are in Sedona, Arizona. Next up is Nashville. I’m feeling a bit country. Plus our daughter is expecting us for Christmas.
There is much to blog about, so much in fact that I don’t have a clue where to start. So I have decided to jump around, like a rabbit, which brings up this post on bunnies. Naturally.
On my Oregon coast trip, I stopped over in Tillamook to visit the cheese factory. It sends out tons of the stuff annually. I assume all over the world. I watched women whip around 50 pound blocks of cheese like they had been working out with Arnold Schwarzenegger. This made me hungry, so I ordered a sample plate of Tillamook Ice Cream. It’s really good. I mean really good. But eating all of those calories made me tired. It was time to find a campground.
And this is where the bunnies come in. I pulled in to Pleasant Valley Campground a few miles south of Tillamook and was greeted by (drum roll please) RABBITS, dozens of them. There were black ones, and brown ones, and white ones, all of whom seemed to be chasing each other around in a glorious romp to make more bunnies. After all, isn’t that what rabbits do?
Ignoring the obvious, for the moment, I asked the owner where all the rabbits came from. “Oh they used to live across the street,” she informed me. “One day, a few moved over here. They didn’t do any harm and the campers seemed to like them. So I let them stay.” The rest is history, as they say. Anyway, here are some photos I took of the rabbits. Enjoy.