Paulie Raddish, the Welsh Rabbit

Contrary to standard gardener mode (see Mr. McGregor et al) I am simply entranced by our new visitor. On my way out to the patio for breakfast, I spy a tiny rabbit in the middle of the yard - "Gigi there's a bunny!" So the two of us stand on the back steps eating our breakfast toast, gawking like the city kids we are. We've NEVER had a bunny! 

I polled the family for names: J suggested Paul (as opposed to Peter) Gigi offered Radish and of course R wanted Welsh Rabbit. And, since we don't know the gender, preferred pronoun they are now Paulie Radish the Welsh Rabbit. They are not at all skittish - sitting just a foot away from me as I trimmed the sage or walking right past my chair. 

Of course they are now the perp in The Case of the Decimated Spinach:

I'd never tried to grow spinach... the chard suffered too so we've planted a new crop, and moved some back up window boxes of basil up to Jackson's rooftop garden. I spent an afternoon and the following morning digging out the lilies of the valley and redoing the path so my little herb garden looks pretty good. The trees have grown so tall there's not enough sun so I'm trying out tomatoes and cucumbers in movable pots.

Of course the real project is the need for a new fence - complicated by the discovery this week that the vine covered chain link and decrepit wood fencing are on the Biger's side of the property line. His backyard is a mess and a rusted barrel of sand is leaking over to our side where the wood fence has completely disintegrated.  As daddy would say: JOHO! If he replaces the fence, we'll have to be satisfied with his choices. If we do it, we'd have to cut down at least two of the trees in order to fit the fence on our side of the line. Ultimately it means talking to him and getting an earful of his MAGATrump politics.  Hmm, how did I get from bunny ecstasy to nasty neighbor rant?

xxxxxKA