To a Rabbit


After our all-out, no-holds-barred attack on rabbits a couple of days ago, I started to feel bad. I like rabbits! It was Chet who got all uppity about being "king of this blog." He's a guy. Stuff like that happens when you get guys involved. I happen to think Cinnamon is a vision of lagopulchritude. It's the Rex breed of rabbit that I drool over every September, in the Small Animal Barn of our county fair. I'd have a rabbit if they didn't make my nose tickle, and my eyes itch...

So I decided to paint a rabbit, and show the steps of making this little painting here.
First, I start with a sketch I like, of a cottontail resting out on our lawn (made pre-dog, obviously. Cottontails don't get much rest around here anymore.) The next step is to paint some winter weeds around her, and put a nice wet wash of burnt umber and cobalt blue over the wet ground of her body. I make her fur much darker than it should be, because I'm about to sprinkle ordinary table salt atop that wash. Salt is hydrophilic, which means it draws water toward itself. Each grain makes a little puddle, and the pigment settles around that puddle of clear water. This gives a lovely organic effect that you couldn't do convincingly by trying. I use a lot of salt in my paintings these days. It's a big help for someone who is so used to painting feathers, that I panic a bit when asked to render other textures, like fur. The painting's about done now.

I want it to look spontaneous and quick, and it has been. But although a watercolor may be executed very quickly, there's a lot of thought and consideration that goes into making it look spontaneous.

Cinnamon, you're beautiful. This one's for you, kid!


Another snowy day, spent cleaning and getting ready to trim the Christmas tree. Today is a special day: Chet Baker turns 1! We decided to let him eat beef stew out of his bowl at the table with us, something he thought was a great idea. Here, waitress Phoebe helps him with his chair.
Then he digs in with the kids.
We had a ball at the big pet store in town,picking out toys we thought Chet would like. But he's developed a preternatural ability

to get the squeaker out of any toy, always accompanied by clouds of Hollofil. Our house is dotted with Hollofil bunnies from all the toys he's slaughtered. Even this squeaky football fell prey to his teeth. He's unrepentant, even though nobody can say "I'm sorry!" better than a googly-eyed Boston terrier.
I'm sorry about the shirt, Chet.

That Meddlesome Dog

Chet Baker Speaks:

OK, Cinnamon, I've got a challenge for you. How are you at pulling sleds? Huh? I not only pull them, but I cause spectacular wipeouts, then steal the sled, pull it all by myself, and give sloppy kisses to the kids. I'll bet rabbits bite when they kiss. I'm King of this Blog. It's a Dog Blog now, Bunnyface, and for the next week, there's nothing you can do about it. P.S. I CHASE bunnies. Bunnies are very careful around my yard. They come out only at night. Even the word "Bunny" sends me leaping up to the nearest windowsill, looking for my foe. There. I've said it. But you started it. Zick: That'll do, Chet. Down, boy.
It's snowing like crazy again, even though the weather says there's a slight chance of snow showers. Hmmph. Three inches and counting.

I'm home today, trying to get the house back under control so we can put the Christmas tree up tonight. There's something in me that balks at putting up a Christmas tree in a sloppy house. Gotta have it just perfect. We're also celebrating Chet's one-year-birthday tonight. I cannot begin to say what a happy difference that little dog has made in all our lives. The joy quotient has gone way up, and I'm sure we laugh now at least twice as much as we did before he arrived.

Last night was another bacchanale, a wine dinner with wonderful friends. The hosts were showcasing spicy Rhone Valley wines, and each of the seven couples attending made incredibly hearty courses to pair with them--seven incredibly hearty courses. We were all groaning by the time the Thompson/Zickefoose entry came around in slot #7--pork loin with apples, sweet potatoes, and a savory apple juice-honey-pepper sauce. Caveman Bill cooked it outside in his big cast-iron Dutch oven. It was fab, if a little over-the-top for a dessert. The wines were big, hearty, and fabulous. I drank about a tablespoon of each one, since we had a snowy drive home.
Well, back to cleaning the house and hanging dripping snowsuits atop doors. So great to hear from Sharon again!