Gram's Pearls of Wisdom

Just the other day, I was sharing some Grandmotherly wisdom with Teen 1 and Teen 2 (two teen-agers belonging to my youngest daughter).  It involved one of the subtle ways a female can assess a male, in whom they might have some interest.  In their case, it was intended for future reference only.

This little pearl of wisdom was: if you glance at the size of a man’s feet, you can gauge the size of other parts of him, such as his hands, for example.  It’s always nice to know about the size of a man’s hands.  If a woman has a large hand, it is more comforting when the hand you slip yours into is bigger than your own. That was true in my own case, since I grew up playing the piano, so I felt I should pass that along to loved ones.

I think it also might work for noses, but then I’m not completely sure.  I must admit that my research in this area if fairly limited.  Although surprisingly accurate.

They thought it was very funny. Then they started asking about boys and men we knew.  And … well … it went on for some time.  I did feel they got the message, and would probably never look at boys/men the same way again.

We never got around to brain size, which I feel is the most important part of a person (along with a sense of humor), regardless of sex.  But one simply cannot cover everything in one session.

Until we moved out here in the country a few years ago, my limited research had been restricted to men.  I have since discovered it completely collapses when it comes to animals such as cattle and horses.  They don’t actually have hands.  And I have no clue about roosters.

Four years ago, I rescued this very special rabbit, whom I adore.  His name is Chico.  Someone had obviously tossed him from a moving car, because he had little skid marks on his upper lip.  I cleaned him up, calmed him down, and put him in a cage on a table in my bedroom, since the inn was full and we didn’t even have a manger.

I used to sit at that table every day writing something called “Morning Pages” taken from the book, The Artist’s Way .  Three pages, with streams of thought that you write by hand, before even having coffee.  Life was much easier on The Husband when I used to do that.

At first Chico’s cage covered the top of that table.  Then later, the table itself was replaced with a brand new, two storied, carpeted condo, made especially for the little guy.  Chico was happy, and I was happy.

Since I spent so much time cuddling Chico and holding him and petting him, I believe he bonded with me … as Baxter (a bunny we recently lost) bonded with Zoey (his little partner).  Chico would lick my nose and face, and thump when anyone else came into “our” room.  I had no idea rabbits could become so possessive with humans.  It was very sweet, except he also used to pee on me regularly, which was not sweet.

One day when I was holding Chico against my chest, I looked down and saw this 2 inch “worm” lying on my shirt.  Ooh, ick!  I almost tried to flick it away, but since I had no idea where it came from, I decided to get a second opinion.  By the time I found The Husband, the “worm” had disappeared.  How odd!

Then, with a flash of insight, I realized what the “worm” actually was.  That, coupled with the fact of all the peeing on me that Chico did, meant it was past the time to get him neutered.  I made the appointment and he went in the next day.

We still cuddle and he licks my face.  But he doesn’t pee on me anymore, and I’ve never seen the “worm” when we’re together.

I only mention my very private, rather personal experience with Chico to reinforce the validity of my Grandmotherly tidbit to Teen 1 and Teen 2.  Because, as we all know … rabbits have really big feet!