How to make a bunny farm...take away his sweet sweet condo.

Polar opposites are funny. This is probably why I moved to the beach, San Diego, from Washington D.C. From a vaulted-ceiling 1920's style apartment in spiffy Woodley Park in Northwest DC to a teeny1960's style bungalow-cabin-studio-den-lair thing in Mission Beach, San Diego on a narrow peninsula between Mission Bay and the Pacific Ocean. It is, awesome. The horizontal wood paneling throughout is actual wood, the three electrical outlets are so strategically placed as to remind the occupants that dwellers of this residence should not have (much) need for electricity. The kitchen cabinets are handmade with nice wrought iron hinges, very Hansel and Gretel, only less edible, same as the bathroom door. Decorated to our (myself and my guy Wease, a now free-lance journalist/sportswriter) specifications it has a very Hunter S. Thompson/Ralph Steadman meets Little House on the Prairie aesthetic. A twenty second walk out the front door (I don't know why I specify, as there is only one door, as there is only one wall big enough to accommodate said door) in either direction puts you at water's edge. Quiet Bay side lagoon to the East, hustle-n-flow of the Boardwalk and Pacific surf to the West.