Mr. Sniffer

It was the week before Easter.

Our very, very good friend, Ben Evans, called my husband.

Now Ben & his beautiful wife, Ashley, have four precious children.

The Evans' oldest daughter's name is Anne-Claire.  (Gorgeous, huh?)  Anne-Claire is 7.  She is so darling and can't fully say her "r's" yet.  Totally grabs my heart every time I hear her speak.

So Ben calls Chris.

Ben:  "Hey, man. Anne-Claire is selling Easter bunnies.  She's so nervous about asking someone to buy one from her.  I told her to call you.  Will you talk to her?"

Chris, for some reason thinking it was a huge, edible chocolate bunny, says:  "Oh, sure!  Put her on the phone!"

Anne-Claire, so incredibly sweetly:  "Mr. Cwis?  This is Anne-Cwaire.  Would you wike to buy an Eastuh wabbit fwom me?"

Chris, his heart melting:  "Oh, you bet, Anne-Claire!  How much is it, honey?"

Anne-Claire: "Twenty dahwas."

Chris:  "Absolutely!  That would be great!  Thank you!"

Ben, back on the phone:  "Great, dude.  Thanks so much.  I'll be up next Saturday to deliver it."

Next Saturday rolls around, and Ben delivers the bunny, all right.

A living, breathing, precious four-week-old gray ball of fur.

Timothy does back-flips of excitement all over the house.  "A rabbit!  A rabbit!  We got a rabbit!"

Chris and I are stunned.

I, for one, do not want a single additional organism to take care of in this house.

Much less one that poops 24/7.

But what do we say to Mr. Backflips?

So Chris first names him "Stew."  Isn't that horrible?  :)

Timothy counters with "Mr. Hopper."

Chris:  "Bullet".  (Gasp!)

The neighborhood kids get in on the christening:  "Mr. Fluffy-Wuffy Pants".

Timothy:  "Mr. Fluffington."

I never knew what to call the little thing.  All I knew was that he was sweet.  Docile.  Let us hold him and love on him.  Came to his crate door and put his feet up on it when I passed by.  Ate out of my hand.

Yup.  He's staying.

And his final name, courtesy of Timothy, is "Mr. Sniffer."

All-righty then.

Hello, Mr. Sniffer.

How could I say "no" to those ears?

Mr. Curious.

He's like a dog.

In fact, he plays with our dogs.  He chases them. 

What a pet.

Thanks, Ben.

Watermelon-Feta Salad

Photo credit:  Rachel F., Song of the South Blog

Seriously.

This is what summer is all about right here.

Sweet, juicy watermelon double-dates tart feta cheese and twangy balsamic vinegar on a bed of greens.

Quick!  Grab your fork!

I found this gastronomical joy on the blog of a sweet friend.  We met in March, and our hearts connected instantly.  Rachel is a kindred spirit. 

Don't you love it when that happens?

Hey, have you ever reduced balsamic vinegar? 

Just boil it until it gets thick and a little gooey. 

Simple ingredients?  You got it.

Mixed greens and arugula.
Feta cheese.
Cubed watermelon.
Reduced balsamic vinegar.

If you are scrunching your nose in mock disgust, I'm pleading with you.   For the love of all things good and decent...give it a try!

Thanks, Rachel!