Escrow closed this afternoon, after a long weekend of stress, nail-biting, hyper-imaginative panic attacks (what happens if they don’t close on time? do we lose the house? will we have to start house-hunting all over? are we out a gazillion bucks in closing costs?!).
Our real estate broker and I collapsed in relief against the butcher block island in the middle of the kitchen, toasting each other with imaginary Chablis in imaginary stemware. I paused and gazed out over a couple of acres of empty desert –
– and spied the first rabbit.
Oh, yes. Apparently rabbits are quite populous in this new neighborhood – a pest I hadn’t included in my garden daydreams, since we’ve lived next to a major highway for 25-plus years. But now, up the desert hillside as we are, little fuzzy-eared new-plant-chomping varmints are going to be a very real gardening challenge.
Visions of meandering, bedecked in my Katharine Hepburn garden hat and gloves, through a small field of budding flowers and vegetables popped like soap bubbles, leaving behind a residue that looked a lot like blobs of hastily planted chicken wire.
I wonder if they’d be scared away by a coyote replica …