Roman has been exhibiting some rather strange behaviour lately.
During one recent evening, for no apparent reason, he looked to have become petrified with fear. He would sit in his run, staring towards one corner of our front room.
We couldn’t work out what may have triggered this alarm. Claire even explored the area of the room where Roman had become transfixed, in the hope that we would discover something scary for bunnies which could be removed. We were unable to spot any toy farmers with shotguns, stuffed foxes, or copies of Jamie Oliver’s bestseller Cooking Pukka Tukka With Thumper.
Thankfully, Roman eventually settled down and has been calm ever since… for now.
He did once have a terrible nightmare, but as he has thankfully not appeared to have had another in almost two years, it is unlikely that he suffered another.
The only thing Claire and I can possibly think of which may have driven him loopy is toast…
Yes, toast. As in cooked bread. We gave Romy a tiny part of a slice a week ago. He devoured it and I mean DEVOURED! Think of the T-Rex in Jurassic Park eating the bloke off the toilet. The morsel of Hovis stood no chance.
It was lovely to see Roman enjoying this treat – especially after we withdrew his mango a couple of months ago. The only problem is that he appears to like toast too much…
His daily treats primarily consist of dried apple and dried carrot. He normally adores these small pleasures, and can often be seen skipping around his run whenever anyone goes near the ‘treat box’.
The ‘treat box’ is basically a large green box given to us by the local council, so we can recycle glass bottles and tin cans. As we already had one and this freebie from the local authorities looked very clean, we adopted it as a container for rabbit food, litter, hay etc… we justified this acquisition to ourselves by looking at our extortionate council tax bill!
Anyway… since getting a taste for “the T-Word” – the term Claire and I now use to identify t**st, as we believe Roman has learned the word – the bunny has lost nearly all interest in his apple and carrot treats.
Where he would once go crazy for a bit of dry sliced vegetable, he now picks at his food as if he is a little boy, wanting ice cream for pudding, but first being forced to finish a plate of nasty fish pie… this may or may not be a reference to my childhood.
T**st is very calorific, and while most of the population have gained some weight during ‘lockdown’, as responsible bunny parents, we’re not prepared to let our rabbit go the same way. Sorry, Roman – life’s not fair – get used to it.
Therefore, and much to Romy’s annoyance, he is only treated to the T-Word once every couple of days… sometimes less!
What the furry cherub doesn’t know, is that if he continues to pick at his food and get spooked for no reason, t**st may be off the menu altogether.
My day has been much like a Derby County player’s car after a night in the pub… a write-off
A disturbed night meant that I was unable to get the minimum eight hours sleep my body demands. Seriously, if I don’t get enough, I’m fecking useless the next day.
I have always loved my bed and sleep – as my parents will confirm. I was the only baby that anyone had heard of who would sleep solidly from bedtime until morning.
Due to my fatigue, all the plans I had for today went out of the window. I didn’t even get downstairs until 2pm! The afternoon was then spent watching Claire play Rayman on the PlayStation, while offering pointless advice on how to get beyond some tricky sections of the game.
We were going to enjoy a lovely, vegetarian Sunday Roast. However, given that Claire’s night was equally unpleasant and disturbed as mine, she too was tired.
The thought of cooking and eating a banquet wasn’t appealing to either of us. We are therefore having a spaghetti bolognese ready meal. The Sunday Roast will have to be eaten tomorrow. Yes, on Monday – but given the lockdown situation we are currently in, whatever day it may be feels meaningless.
On Tuesday, a video preview of what the upcoming PlayStation 5 is capable of.
If this is what game designers can do with the PS5 before it’s even been released, imagine the possibilities after the console has been out for a few years… imagine Grand Theft Auto 6 and Red Dead Redevelopment 3.
There has been a lot of talk about how the remainder of the English football season should be concluded.
The three clubs who appear to either gain or lose the most, depending upon whatever decision is made, are Liverpool, Leeds and West Brom. Liverpool because they are on the verge of securing the league title for the first time in 30 years, with the latter two clubs both eyeing-up promotion to the Premier League.
Considering the importance of whatever decision is made, I must admit to being surprised at how quiet the three clubs – including my beloved Leeds – are being about the whole thing. Don’t get me wrong, remaining ‘hush hush’ isn’t a bad thing – if anything I find the silence honorable and respectful.
We are in the middle of a serious worldwide pandemic. Hundreds of people in the UK continue to tragically die every day from the disease. While sport is important, there are still far greater priorities and issues in life than football.
Why is it then that chairmen, managers, players and supporters from a small number of clubs keep going on and on and on about how the season should be cancelled, filed as null and void, or even played-out without any teams being relegated. That last one did make me chuckle!
I find it more than just a coincidence, that the football clubs who have been most vocal in the media, with their appeals to have the entire season cancelled, are the majority of those currently placed in the bottom-six of the Premier League, and therefore at risk of being relegated to the Championship next season. Whenever “next season” may be.
It is almost as if those clubs have a lot of money to lose, should the remaining fixtures be played, and they end up being sent down.
As well as totally ignoring the fact that they have all been dogshit for 80% of the season (before football was suspended in March), their constant crying to any journalist willing to listen to them whinge, is a tad disrespectful to anyone who has contracted Covid, or worse, lost a loved one to the virus.
The Sporting Director at Norwich City has been one of the most embarrassing culprits, having claimed that if his PREMIER LEAGUE club are unable to play all their games, Leeds in THE CHAMPIONSHIP should be denied promotion. Apparently, he is also going to judge the cake stall at the Swineford Village Fair. He doesn’t know anything about baking, but seems to enjoy having an opinion on matters which have feck all to do with him!
Show some respect… and and some dignity!
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
