The Rabbit of Usk faces such a conundrum there's a possibility I'll never again be able to have a hair cut. The problem lies in the relationship we share, I am unwilling to compromise and his response for some time now has been silence. It's been a long impasse in communication. So around the beginning of March, which is when one of us last made a decent contribution, I drew a conclusion that perhaps if I let my hair grow through the March hair cutting deadline, my hair would become intolerable as the warm weather arrived, and this would force me to achieve an increasing intensity of concentration that might permit progress.
Already I have been called 'madam' in the Post Office, and I've been offered a
biscuit recipe by a large round man with bad hair plugs in the Grocery Store.
And now that Tic season has conjoined with Out House Construction season I am
possessed by a twitchiness that defeats all attempt at clear thinking.
But I will not surrender. I will not kill off Walking Stewart by causing
him to discover his lost button then disappear into the ethers of the
Ottoman Empire. And I will insist upon knowing the names and life history of the
Advocates for and against Timothy's canonization. And whenever that's done, I'm
going to get my hair cut. As well I believe somehow the failure of Carrot
Rows has contributed to the Rabbit of Usk's continuing stubbornness. And who
knows what might happen to thinking when Beans might be ready to pick.