EB sends messenger

I have to admit to being worried. Big time. I mean would the Easter Bunny find me out here, so far from British Columbia’s faerie enchanted mountains, lakes and fruits. I know such things, so to speak, I mean I know.

You have to admit I have reason to worry. Not one Faerie has even mentioned a concern that the Easter Bunny may pass us by. In fact I get the impression some would prefer the EB stay away.

Now the EB has never missed me to date. Never, nada, nope, he has found me every single time, every year, every eastre/easter, even in Dungannon south of Belfast, during the troubles. Now that is impressive, but back here, in the south eastern land of Ontario, it’s feasible he could miss me. That’s what I thought until last night.

Yep, a message from the elusive but always welcome EB himself. Dispatched unto me, Boy Ricky, on The Land, aka Amber Fox. The messenger was pretty cool, not a hare out of place, listening to his iHop, he called me over, not too close he said or my egg gets it, scrambled I thought he added. I stood back but leaned forward, I am all ears I shouted with glee. He grimaced. Sorry I added quickly, feeling a little stupid; want a carrot, its organic.

He took the carrot, better than the stuff I get at home he mumbled. He was looking about, as if he was looking for more to nosh on. I have some eggplant, organic too, I said. No he adds, I read the Amber Fox blog. Carrots, weed, lucky beer I offer? BC bud he asks, no I say, Ontario basement special. He takes the Lucky Beer.

So EB knows I am here I say, hands fumbling, roaming the insides of my pockets, nervous yet excited. My fingers grasp my key-chain, I move it through my fingers, then, Oh my god, fur....