When I was young, we did not have central air or electric heaters. So in the fall, we would gather wood for the winter. My brother and I would collect twigs for kindling, cut down trees with either a handsaw or a bow saw and split logs.

My father never said how much wood we had to bring in. We felled and gathered and chopped and cured what we thought was sufficient.

There was only one contingency. If we ran out of wood, we had to go out in the snow and gather more. Our winter clothes were minimal and most of my jeans were pretty torn up, to varying but significant degrees. Needless to say, we learned quickly to gather more wood in the fall.

When I would complain that it was painful, my father would tell me that pain meant that I was getting stronger.

In this case, “stronger,” was a euphemism for, “arthritis.”

But it significantly influenced my values in a lasting way. I learned the value of contribution, tenacity, hard work and a unbreakable will. Epictetus once wrote, “You may shackle my leg, but my will, not even Zeus could overpower.”

And at the end of the day, that is all that you have.

The difference between fortitude and fragility lies not in physical strength, but strength of mind and strength of character.

There two credos that I live by.

The first is that it is never truly possible to take out of anything more than you put in.

The second is that a person must first do what is necessary-- Then do what’s possible.

Yeah, I know I own it all. If there is any question about it, I flick my pee and drench whatever I want. Because it is mine. The doe next to me...she's mine. She knows it too.

She and I had a litter together. I wasn't there at the birth, but I know I have six bouncing little fur balls just as fluffy and beautiful as me. They call me Honey Bear. I am a Satin Angora buck rabbit. My cinnamon colored hair is soft, thick and waves oh so gently in the wind when I hop around. I look fabulous until my human shave my hair. I mean really...it is insulting to a stud as myself to be shaved in the first place, but to leave me half naked with a terrible hair cut. Come on people!

My humans are pretty good. I especially like the two that feed me and groom me. The human girls let me out of my cage each morning and I have full range of the yard. The doe and the children have to stay in this metal pen. I can see them, but I can't go in. My humans freak out when I try to get into the cage with everyone. I heard them say something about, "We can't have any more rabbit babies!" I don't know what they are taking about. We can have so many more babies! The more the merrier in my opinon.

My extended family consists of three dogs. The large black dog is my sister. She and I grew up together. I actually like it when we play. She can get rough though, so I have to put her in her place. I have nails like sharpen blades. They will cut through anything. Haha! I use them when she gets a bit overbearing, and she backs off. The other two dogs are a bit older. One of them is sent out after me to bring me in when I have to go back to my cage. It's annoying how she is always bitting at my hind legs to get me to move. I deal with her because I know she is there as my body guard. Not that I need one. I have scared off two other dogs that have come into my yard. I know I am a badass and protector of my domain.

Although I am tough, I am a very meditative soul. With all the time I spend laying around and waiting for my food to come, I have figured out the world. It can be as simple or as complicated as one wants to make it. Accepting that I am the focal point of life, makes life simple. It is when the humans start thinking there are other things to attend to is when life gets difficult. Well...I am off to get my weekly grooming.

I looked out across the plains, watching my children run free. I swong my trunk around, feeling love fill my heart. I felt the warm sun on my back and stomped around on the ground. I was free.

I heard a pop and a pain filled my left foot. I fell to the floor, thrashing and scared. What was happening? Two more pops and pain filled my chest and back. Blood spilled from my wounds as I thrashed and shriked for my children. My eyes became hazy as I watched the blurry image of a tall creature coming towards me. It was something I had never seen before. It’s foot kicked me and I cried out. A large object was raised to my head and the world blacked out right as it rang out. Pop.

Be aware of animal abuse and illigeal poachers, and please do everything in your power to stop it.

Look at the light.

It isn’t all doom and darkness.

Listen to the laughter

Breaking the silence of your worries.

Cherish the smiles

And holding hands.

Hear the wind whispering to you.

Lighten your heart.

Lie on your back

And gaze at blue skies

With clouds slipping by

Or sing softly to the moon

And let your heart skip a beat.

Now put down your pen

And smile

Before you write again.

Waking up.

Silence.

Getting ready for school.

Silence.

At the breakfast table.

Akward silence.

The car ride to school.

Akward silence.

At school.

Akward silence.

Walking into Homeroom.

Unspoken silence.

Leaving school.

Akward silence.

In the bathroom.

Akward silence.

Grabbing the rope, & tying it to something, anything.

Akward silence.

Death...

Heavy silence.

smooth gentle strokes of fingertips

like paint brushes , against the canvas of the soul

easy, slow strokes , enjoy your work fully

now sink in

deeply

I often wonder why I can never flirt with a stranger - in the supermarket, across the room at a party, at a wedding or at a funeral - anywhere.

Men look at me with some interest I think. I can see them periperally. But like a snobbish person I refuse to look in their direction. I have been told I am attractive, even beautiful; that the color of my eyes is mesmerizing; and my smile is unforgettable.

Am I too shy or maybe afraid? I know women who flirt with every man they are around, even the married ones. But they are only playing a game, just to see how many men will fall into their traps. Total insincererity.

Is it the insincerity that I cannot fake? Do I not want to join in the game? Truth is of utmost importance to me. Truthfulness from me and expected truthfulness from others. Does my obsession about truth hold me back from having casual fun, like most other people enjoy? Is it because I have been betrayed by those I trusted the most?

I just wonder.

Sallyjane