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December 19, 2010

It would appear that, as a little girl, I enjoyed the companionship of stuffed bunnies. My interest in bunnies apparently began early.


And it continued.



My niece shares an interest in stuffed bunnies. “Bunny” is her best sleep buddy. I always thought my best sleep buddies had been my blankets, “Pretty” and “Fuzzy,” but perhaps I loved bunnies, too? Or I loved bunnies best of all? Even older I needed to display a bunny in order to pose for a photo.



Gosh, how cute are my sisters with their flowers? And there I am, clutching flowers and displaying a bunny, a different bunny from the earlier pictures. When did I stop loving bunnies? Or did I? Am I supposed to love bunnies now? Did I love bunnies into my teen years, but because I couldn’t remember why, I let my love burn out? Did my mother insist that I love bunnies because my sisters had already laid claim to kittens, puppies, and ponies? Why did I want to pose for pictures with bunnies? Did they have names? Did I name them or did my mother or sisters? Were these hand-me-down bunnies? Should I start loving bunnies again so that I can declare, I have always loved bunnies, ever since I was a little girl?

These are the questions I face when I peer at my childhood through the thick frosted glass.


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One Comment
  1. There is nothing wrong with loving stuffed bunnies; They seem to have a certain magic. Maybe you should get one and see what comes of it. Btw, you look just as adorable clutching your bunny as your sister’s do with their flowers.
    Thanks for sharing these lovely photos. Be well.


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