A Snow Cone for Christmas

When I was six, dad, mum and I went to Florida for Christmas.  I was terribly excited to be spending Christmas somewhere different, I was even more stupidly excited to experience Disney for the very first time!

We would be staying at my grandparent’s rented condo, which was in Cocoa Beach, and was actually on the beach!  However, a problem arose on Christmas day.  Everyone was sing, christmas carols, songs about snow, the cold, about open fires, and of course White Christmas.  The problem of course was, there was NO SNOW!  It was simply hot, and beautiful and perfect, and I, being six, hated it.

Grand Parents in Florida

Grand Parents in Florida

I had yet to experienced a non-white christmas!  I had been worried about this happening  before I left for Florida.  I had even discussed it with my Nana – the one who was not renting a condo in Florida, the one who had once gotten a black eye.  Nana was a world traveler, like I would become in my teens and twenties.  She tried to dissuade my fears by telling me, “When I was in Morocco, in the desert, it snowed.  It could always snow in Florida, you maybe in for a white Christmas Florence, even in Florida, my dear.”

Well, with that in my mind, my six-year-old brain I could not understand why it would not snow in Florida, after all it was CHRISTMAS!!!  The only way I could communicate my anger was to have a fit!

Me at Christmas

Me at Christmas

I went around shouting, “SNOW SNOW SNOW SNOW!!!!! Where is the Snow?”

My wonderful grandfather, understood, the reason to my frustration.  I think me shouting SNOW, was pretty obvious!   My grandfather spoke to me in a whimsical tone, “Florence”, he said, “In Florida they do have snow, it’s a special kind of snow.  Would you like to see it?”

Where was this snow?  I could not see it.  I needed to see it, it was after all Christmas, and Christmas was not Christmas without snow.  So I said, yes.  And Papa lead me to the beach.  I looked everywhere for this snow.  I really hoped he did not think I was so stupid to believe that sand was snow!  He led me to a cart with an umbrella, and asked me, “What colour would you like the snow to be, if you could pick any colour, Florence.”  “Bue”, I replied.

Then the man with the cart handed me a cone of snow, with blue liquid on it.  It was so wonderful!  I was so excited!  There was actual snow in my hands, on Christmas, in Florida whilst in a bathing-suit.  I knew it was not real snow, but it was better than real snow, because I was allowed to eat the snow and it tasted amazing!

When I was 19 years old, I spent Christmas with friends in Oman, another hot – sans snow – country.  I held out hope that perhaps it would snow at least for Christmas day, just a little.  That all I need a bit of snow for Christmas. Yet, again there was no snow…  I did find some ice and made myself a snow cone.  And I was happy.

Farewell

The Evil White Cat on our Return from Disney

When I was 5 my parents took me to Florida for the first time.  It was over Christmas and was my first time ever going on a long road trip to a place, it seem to me was only for kids.  I of course mean Disney! I felt truly special.

We were in fact going to Florida to visit my grandparents, who always rented a condo on the beach in Cocoa Beach.  But it was still very exciting to me!  The memories of this vacation is so engrained in my mind, my imagination, into my very soul.  Those memories I will save for a later entry.

This story took place on our return from Disney.  We only had one cat at the time, Trisha.  Trisha was a white long hair cat, that my mum had saved as a kitten from being drowned by its un-wanting owner.  Trisha had been in our family for years before I was born.

Whilst we were away mum had arranged for her cousin to stay at our house to take care of Trisha.  On returning, mum walked in to our home first, her cousin greeting her warmly, when out of nowhere this big ball of white fur jumps into mum’s arms.

A close representation of Trisha, cannot seem to find a picture of Trisha

A close representation of Trisha, cannot seem to find a picture of Trisha

The white fur ball who was in mum’s arm was of course was Trisha, she climbed on to mum’s shoulder for a better hug, purring away.  Trisha took her head out of mum’s flaming red hair, she watched as dad and I walked into the foyer, seeing us for the first time in 2 weeks, she hist and batted with her paw claws out at dad and me.

Clearly no matter what, Trisha only cared for mum, perhaps she remembered being saved by mum.  Perhaps she disliked me purely because, at my birth, I had taken away attention from her.  I have no clue why she would dislike dad.  Trisha died a few months later, and to be honest this is the only story, I was present for and remember of my own accord of Trisha.  However, I still love the story because it always makes me remember how much everyone loved my mum, even grumpy old cats who only loved my mum.

Farewell

 

Wicked Bunny Rabbit

After Yuki my first rabbit died, I experienced a great void.  A rabbit is a silly little thing, that is unique in the animal kingdom.  They always remind me of unicorns.  It seem so unlikely that they should exist; even more unlikely that they should be perfectly adapted for human contact.  I waited two years until my search began for a new rabbit, out of respect for Yuki.

During those 2 years I had traveled and started University.  I was 20 years old, and about to move out into a my own apartment!  I had experienced the love Yuki had for the freedom of the outdoors and love she had for me as a result, so I actually did research on what was required for a free range house bunny.  I was convinced I could litter train a bunny.

I browsed for rabbits on the SPCA website.  I wanted to adopt, there I found a bunny named Jazz, a sweet little Japanese Harlequin Rabbit.  I could not wait, it was still a month until I officially moved in, but I fell in love with this rabbit.  I needed him!  He was perfect!  I was so worried he would be adopted before I could adopt him.  As luck would have it, I received a call from my landlord that night, he told me I would be able to get the keys to the apartment early to paint.

Gaston Curious Nature Looking On

Gaston Curious Nature Looking On

I picked up the keys, and then went straight to the SPCA to get Jazz.  I renamed Jazz, Gaston Lachaille.  The first night, we slept on the floor together.  My furniture was not to arrive for a while, I was not really meant to be living in the apartment yet, only painting so I slept on a blow up mattress for weeks.  Gaston was so loving from the start!  He brilliantly understood the concept of potty training.  It was rewarding to get a rabbit from the SPCA and the animal be perfect!

That was until Gaston met my mum …

My mum met Gaston and said to me, “He does not look like a regular rabbit he looks odd, he has a big nose!”  How rude!  Mum had been use to my Yuki, and she had her own rabbit Coco, a floppy chocolate colour bunny.  Gaston was a very different breed, from both Yuki and Coco.

I really did not mind mum’s comment about Gaston.  But it seems Gaston did!  One would never think a rabbit is capable of understanding a human or that a rabbit would be vengeful.  But Gaston certainly is!

No more than 10 minutes after mum’s comment did Gaston trip my mother, or in his view the women that call him odd!  Gaston has never ever, in the 6 years since then, ever tripped me, my dad or a guest!  He tripped my mum almost every time she visited.  Each time it happened, my mum would call him a stupid bunny, so Gaston would trip her again.

It was not simply tripping, Gaston was so determined and well placed, it would make her fall.  The only time I have ever seen Gaston with so much determination, forethought and pure evilness, is when he tries to scare the cats when they visit my apartment, but that’s another story for another time.

Mum who so loved banana peel gags, certainly did not appreciate Gaston wicked humour when directed at her.

Loving Cuddles

Loving Cuddles

Although I can see Gaston’s wicked nature he has to others who are cruel to him or at times simply because I think he wants a bunny laugh, he has always been sweet and loving to me. To those thinking of getting a rabbit, I highly recommend them, they have such personalities, and can be right arse, which make them even more special.

Farewell