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Is This the Face of a Killer?


Last spring I was quite traumatized when my cuddly, little cockapoo became—well, there’s really no other way to say it--a murderer. He killed some bunnies living underneath our deck. It was AWFUL!

Oreo is normally a great listener (better than most teenagers) and responds instantly when I call him. Except then. He reverted back to his wolf instincts, or whatever, and refused to come. He was a dog on a hunting mission and nothing was going to deter him.

We’ve rebuilt our deck since then, and he can no longer fit underneath it. But apparently the bunnies can. Several weeks ago they built another nest under there. I had to keep Oreo on a leash for two weeks straight so he wouldn’t dig holes all around our deck in his attempts to get at them. It was quite frustrating. I wondered how long the life cycle of a baby bunny was and when they would finally move on. But eventually they did, and Oreo enjoyed free reign of the backyard once again.

Then two days ago, I noticed a bunny digging a hole in the middle of our yard. When I went out to chase it away, it just looked at me and laughed. (I hate it when wild life isn’t afraid of me!)

I pulled myself up to my full five feet in height and roared at it. It performed a couple of bunny hops and stopped. I roared again, running at it, and flailing my arms--much to my teen daughter’s hysterical amusement. The bunny hopped just across the border of our property into our neighbor’s yard. I filled in the hole it had dug, and marched back inside.

The minute my back was turned the bunny was back.

In desperation, I let Oreo out, hoping his menacing 15-lb. presence would terrify the bunny enough to find a new home. He sniffed around, keeping the critter at bay.

But the minute his back was turned, the bunny was back. Digging.

I chased it away again, then got our big, orange snow shovel. I filled in the bunny hole again, and laid the shovel on top of it. Ha! Let’s see it try to move THAT, I thought.


But the following morning…yeah. The bunny was back. No, it didn’t move the shovel. This time it was digging next to the shovel. I filled it in and covered both holes with the shovel. The bunny just moved to a new spot in the yard and started digging.

Arrrghhhh!!!!

Here’s something I don’t get. There are no protective bushes where this bunny is choosing to create its nest. There’s no shade. We have a dog. And we mow the lawn regularly.

Our next-door-neighbor’s house is currently empty. They have no dog. And they have lots of trees and bushes. For cryin’ out loud, where would you pick to build your nest? I think I’ve just figured out where the expression “dumb bunny” came from.

Anyway, now frustrated beyond reason, I eyed my husband’s BB gun, propped up in the corner of our kitchen…

Naw, I couldn’t do it! Not only did I have no idea how to shoot the thing, but what if I actually killed the bunny? Could I really handle that? Plus, I could put my eye out, right? But my husband wasn’t returning from a work-related trip for several days. What to do?

Well, I’m sorry to say I’ve become about as cold-blooded as Oreo. I’ve seriously reached my breaking point. I’m just going to let the dog continually patrol the property--let nature take its course. If the bunny’s number is up. It’s up. I know that may sound cruel but this is basic nature, “Survival of the Fittest,” “Circle of Life,” and all that.

Dumb bunny! Sick ‘em, Oreo.

Stayin' Alive


I’m very excited. It’s been over a week and a half and I haven’t killed my Mother’s Day gift yet. As I love flowers, but alas, did not inherit my mother’s green thumb, I tend to unintentionally kill the plants I love.

This is why my home is currently filled with lush, green, fake vegetation.

But isn’t this real orchid beautiful? It’s called a “Just Add Ice” orchid. To care for it I’m supposed to give it a mere three ice cubes per week. That’s it. So far so good…

European Vacation: Adventures in Rome - The Final Episode

For our last full day of touring in Rome we decided to appease our 14-year-old son, and headed out to tour some catacombs. We chose the Catacombs of San Sebastiano. These were a bit further away, but were supposed to be less crowded.

There are around 40 catacombs scattered outside the ancient walls of Rome. The catacombs are burial places, primarily for Christians since they preferred to be buried as opposed to cremated. By law, nobody was allowed to be buried within the walls of Rome. Land was expensive and many Christians were poor; so to make the most of the space available, the catacombs were dug into the ground and contained multiple levels. The Catacombs of San Sebastiano have four different levels.

It was quite amazing how elaborate the underground construction was. We saw empty grave after empty grave dug into the walls of the catacombs, but no bodies remained.

“I’m sorry we didn’t see any actual skeletons, buddy.” I apologized to Joshua after the tour. “I was sure there’d be skeletons.”

“That’s okay, mom,” he replied in characteristic easy-going style. “It was still cool.”

Using the bridge known as the Ponte Sant’Angelo, we crossed over the Tiber River that runs through the city. In the middle ages, this was the only bridge that connected the Vatican and St. Peter’s with downtown Rome.

And the angel statues on it are Bernini designed.

From the bridge we viewed the exterior of Emperor Hadrian’s tomb, the Castel Sant’Angelo. (Because even an emperor’s tomb couldn’t be inside the city.) Originally built in 139 A.D., the tomb has been used over the years as a castle, prison, and papal refuge.

We hadn’t yet experienced the infamous shopping mecca of Rome, Via del Corso, so we headed there next. This street is lined with super expensive, designer shops.

But even more interesting than the stores were the people. Because it was so close to Easter, the street had a distinctive carnival-like atmosphere. It was jam-packed with people. Toy hawkers attracted customers by blowing bubbles at them, clowns made balloon animals, and creative types looked to make a buck from the multitudes combing the streets with Euros to spend.

We came across these street dancers hoping for donations, and Joshua took a short video of them.




We ate more gelato and listened to street musicians perform beautiful music while watching artists create colorful pieces right before our eyes.



We also saw lots of this, too.

I enjoyed mortifying my teens by snapping pics whenever possible. “I want to capture the true flavor of Rome,” I explained as I snapped a few more. Joshua just shook his head and moved quickly away from me. “Don’t they have homes?” Ashleigh wondered.

While Josh and Chris were browsing in a boy-oriented store, Ashleigh and I waited for them outside the shop. We noticed that Twilight is just as popular in Rome as it is at home.

Saturday evening came to an end, and on Easter Sunday it was time for us to say farewell to Rome. But our adventure wasn’t quite over yet…

We arrived at the airport around 4:30 a.m., and wheeled our luggage around until we finally figured out where we were supposed to be. Chris travels so much he has one of those special frequent flyer cards, so we skipped past the long line of “regular” people, sailed through baggage check-in, and the security check. An airport employee directed us to our terminal with an “Arriva Derci” and a smile. We had just started walking when, BAM! All the power in the building went out.

I’m not making this up! At the same time, an incredibly loud siren started wailing in our ears. We stood there, for the second time that week, blinking in total darkness.

Using Joshua’s pocket flashlight, we made it to one of the terminals and sat down in some empty seats while Chris strolled to the massive windows and peered out into the blackness. “Yup,” he called over the siren. “It’s just our terminal. They’ll probably end up evacuating the airport.”

It took all my willpower not to throw myself on the ground and start screaming above that blasted siren, “NOOOOOO!!! I want to go home!”

The weird thing was, nobody appeared to be panicking. Actually, considering our apartment neighbors’ earthquake response, it probably wasn’t all that weird. Security guards strolled casually past--occasionally answering questions in Italian, which we of course couldn’t understand.

We sat in the dark for almost an hour before the power came back on and the siren quieted. Everybody in the terminal cheered.

Slowly everything came back to life. They never did evacuate the building; and we finally boarded the plane a mere two hours late. Thus, our two-hour layover in Amsterdam consisted of 65 people racing through the airport, hauling our carry-on bags, as we attempted to make our flight home.

Believe it or not we made it! And our luggage even made it home too. (There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.)

So ended our European Vacation: Adventure in Rome. Farewell ancient ruins. Farewell gelato. Ciao Roma! All-in-all it was quite a fascinating trip. Hope you all enjoyed it as well!

Final Family Impressions:

Joshua:“I don’t want to see any more naked people!”
Ashleigh: “Yeah, I’m kind of sick of naked people too.”
Holly: “I hope the next museum we visit has an audiotour.”
Chris: “Do you think we took enough pictures…”



First catacombs image
Second catacombs image

European Vacation - Adventures in Rome – Day Trippin’

“Mi scusi! How do you get to Tivoli?”

Renowned for its deep river gorges, and cascading waterfalls, we decided to take a day trip to the nearby city of Tivoli.

Key words: DAY TRIP.

This alleged half-hour jaunt took us all day to get there. Why you may ask?

Well…it’s complicated. Let’s just say that despite our incredible cost savings by staying in an apartment (advantage!), there’s something to be said for having a front desk staff and concierge to answer questions and book excursions (disadvantage!).

We actually started out all right. Sure we didn’t have a guide book or a map of Tivoli, but my hubby, Chris, and I both remembered reading that we could take the train to Tivoli from nearby Termini Station. So we hailed a cab and were promptly deposited at the station entrance. We walked into the bustling building, and the kids and I went to stand in the exceptionally long ticket line. But…

Chris didn’t want to wait.

So he went over to a machine and managed to purchase tickets for four to Tivoli for a mere $9.20 Euros instead of the $48 Euros the cab driver had told us it would probably cost. Hmmm…curious.

It took us another half hour of wandering around the station attempting to communicate in halting/broken Italian/English to figure out the tickets he’d purchased were actually leaving from a different train station. So we hustled back outside and hailed another cab to take us to the new train station, Tiburtina.

Once there, we eventually discovered where we needed to be and boarded the train with several other people. It took off, only to come to a complete stop a few minutes later. We sat there for several seconds. Some people got on. Some people got off. Then the train started again. This happened several times and we realized that although it was called a “train” it was actually more like an above-ground subway (perhaps the rampant graffiti should have tipped us off), stopping at different cities along the way to our destination.

“How will we know when to get off?” Ashleigh asked anxiously, while Chris dozed contentedly beside me.

“Well, I can see different signs out the window every time we stop,” I replied with pretend confidence. “As soon as we see a sign that says ‘Tivoli,’ we’ll know to get off.”

After about half an hour, we came to a stop. I read a sign that said: “Bagna di Tivoli.”

Everybody we had boarded the train with in Rome got up and waited expectantly for the doors to open.

“This must be it!” I said, and we all hopped off the train. It jetted off down the track, while we stood blinking in the bright sunlight, getting accustomed to our surroundings.

The sun shone down hotly on a lone bench. A slight breeze ruffled the grass of the empty fields across from of us. Everybody from the train quickly disbursed, and we found ourselves alone. There was an empty café beside the empty train station. An Italian tumbleweed rolled past. (Okay, not really, but you get the idea.)

As we’d experienced several times since coming to Rome, there just weren’t any people around for question-answering.

I walked into the station, which was actually a small room with a couple of ticket machines and no people, of course. I found a map of the train route and figured out that—surprise, surprise—we were actually NOT in Tivoli. Nope. It appeared that Tivoli was another three stops and several miles up the track. Studying the train schedule, we figured out that another train would pass through the station in approximately 40 minutes.

“Let’s just sit here on this nice bench and wait for the next train,” I suggested. But…

Chris didn’t want to wait.

So we hoofed it up the vacant road and onto the main street. This was obviously a small town. No taxis to be seen anywhere. Unlike the crowded streets of Rome, we stood out like Pizza Margherita in a gelataria. People openly stared as we made our way up the street. You could practically hear them thinking, “You ain’t from here.” (Except in Italian, of course.)

“I guess Bagna di Tivoli doesn’t get a lot of tourist traffic,” I commented, nodding politely to wide-eyed passersby.

Suddenly, we noticed a bus drive past with “Tivoli” lit up across its front banner. Several moments later another one came by. We spotted a newspaper stand up ahead and Chris asked the clerk if she knew where we might get a bus ticket to Tivoli. And guess what? For $1 Euro each, we got tickets!

Eventually, a third bus came up the road, and we clambered on board. The bus took off. However, just like the train, it stopped periodically to let people on and off. Ashleigh shot me a look.

Once again, I wondered how we’d know when we were in Tivoli. As we peered out the windows, I noticed we were climbing higher and higher up a steep, winding road. I recalled that Tivoli was described as a hilltop city. So once we hit the town at the top, I suggested we get off the bus. We disembarked and finally—3-1/2 hours, two taxis, one train and a bus ride later—we found ourselves in the center square of the hilly town of Tivoli.

We intended to tour several villas and a nature park in the city, but it was now 3:00 p.m. and we were starving. So we stopped to eat. When we’d finished, Chris caved and asked the restaurant manager for directions to a couple of the sites we wanted to see. (In case he ever tries to deny he stopped to ask directions, I have evidence!)

We chose to start with Villa Gregoriana Park, and hiked uphill about a mile or so to get there. The park is named for Pope Gregory XVI, who saved Tivoli from river damage by diverting the river through a tunnel, weakening its flow, and creating the Grande Cascade waterfall.

The park was very lush and green.

It had a raw, natural beauty that was in complete contrast to big-city Rome. I didn’t realize how much I was missing fresh air, flowers and just being in nature until be started hiking around the Villa Gregoriana.

As promised, it was full of beautiful gorges, refreshing waterfalls, and ancient castle remains.

Here is a ruin of an ancient Temple of Vesta from the Villa’s trail.

Okay, maybe it was worth it. By the time we left the park, it was after 5:00 p.m. Chris wanted to stay in town and do more exploring. But…

Holly didn’t want to wait.

I figured it might be best if we used our remaining time to figure out where the train station was, and when the last train left Tivoli since it was Good Friday. From the park’s ticket counter, we were directed to hike further up the steep hill where we found the train station. Another one-room deal offering no actual humans, only machines. My hubby once again purchased tickets. This time the cost for all four of us was $24.50 Euros to get back to Rome. Hmmm…curious.

Our trip back home was much quicker and less eventful. A quick stop for gelato…

And we finally made it back to the apartment around 7:30 p.m.

We all flopped down, ready to call it a night. Or so I thought. But Chris was still up for adventure. “Let’s head downtown to see the Pope lead the 9:00 p.m. Good Friday procession to the Colosseum,” he suggested.

While massaging my tired tootsies, I cleared my throat to be certain my whine was in full throttle. “Awwww, hon’. Let’s not. It’ll be super crowded and I’m soooo tired now. Plus it’s getting late. I don’t want to be lost in downtown Rome in the dark.”

(Okay, I’m seriously NOT making this next part up.)

The minute the word “dark” was out of my mouth, BAM! All the power in the apartment building went out. We all sat very still. Blinking in the now total darkness.

Chris walked to the window and looked out. “Yup. It’s just our building. Everybody else still has power.”

Unbelievable. I sighed. (A sign?)

“Well kids, we may as well put our shoes back on and go. It’s better than sitting here bored in the dark.

We headed downtown; the streets were flooded with people. Like salmon swimming upstream, everybody was flowing towards the Colosseum, hoping for a glimpse of the Pope. After talking with a police officer, we discovered that unfortunately, we wouldn’t be able to see any of the procession from the street, but we saw lots of interesting people.


More priest and nun sightings.



We got back late and tumbled into bed. The power was back on. Yeah!

Stay tuned for one more post, Adventures in Rome: The Final Episode.
Gelato image by Samuraijohnny