C. and Em went to the Experience Hendrix concert last night at the casino. There were 20-some great blues guitarists on stage, and it was, I understand, amazing. I was planning to go, but decided it was too much driving and sitting. And the moshing, you know, can be quiet strenuous.
This morning we were surprised by giant soft flakes of snow gliding down in great numbers. It didn't last long, but was impressive. In a winter sort of way. It's still warm, though, and hurrah, I heard the storm drain belch and glug, which means we are thawed!
C. ventured out and dug a bucket of sunchokes for the angora rabbits. The six (now five) fuzzy little guys have, so far this winter, eaten their way through 15 big cans of dried greens, a few buckets of carrots, many buckets of sunchokes, the best part of 50 pounds of oats, and several bales of grass hay. They are not interested in pursuing a hay-only diet. (I can always tell they are disappointed when they thump at me after I fill their bowls. Not that they scare me. They're not going to bite me or anything. They prefer to bite C.)
We got gas for the chainsaw, and two gallons of milk and two dozen eggs from Rose. Yes, it's pudding night.