The Ultimate Chet Baker

Update on the peas: It went into the low 20's the night of April 2, and what parts of my several hundred pea plants that were sticking out of the straw mulch are looking decidedly dark and translucent this morning. Crap. I may wind up doing the whole durn start-em-in-the-greenhouse thing all over again. Well, my gardening is highly experimental, and I'm no stranger to failure. I'll keep you posted. I WANT PEAS BEFORE WE GO TO NORTH DAKOTA IN MID-JUNE. And I WILL GET THEM.

Update on the update, 3:47 pm April 3: Yep, more than half of the plants look like they've been nipped in half by frost, their little waists pinched, with the tops dying off. Some that were completely covered by straw look fine. The roots of the ones that are nipped are doubtless still alive, and they may send up more shoots, but I think some more pea planting is in my future. That's OK. I've got a greenhouse, and more seed. I still love the idea of starting them in the greenhouse, labor-intensive as it may be. It's a way to beat the rotten germination I get in the cold, cold ground. Looks like tonight's low of 26 is the lowest it'll go for the next ten days. Current plan: Start more, plant them next to the cold-nipped ones, see who wins. Life is an experiment, and the garden is but one of my laboratories.

S.J. Perelman:  "I guess I'm just an old mad scientist at bottom. Give me an underground laboratory, half a dozen atom-smashers, and a beautiful girl in a diaphanous veil waiting to be turned into a chimpanzee, and I care not who writes the nation's laws."

So here we are, with the last Chet Baker in snow photos that I suppose I'll take this wintry spring. You never know, though. We've had plenty of April snowstorms. Usually during those, I'm so busy hand-feeding baby bluebirds that I don't have time for dog photography.

Little dog, big barn. He loves to look for the animal inhabitants of such ancient spaces.

Looking for voles. Always with the voles. Here, he pauses while digging out a vole tunnel. I've never seen him catch one, but he enjoys the hunt. I grew up with a dachshund named Volks who, not having badgers to hunt, was similarly obsessed with shrews. He'd dig vast tunnels under tree roots, lying on his side, wearing his front nails to little buttons, and sometimes drag himself home, having been bitten and poisoned by a short-tailed shrew, North America's only venomous mammal. Back then, nobody knew Blarina brevicaudata had venom sacs in its tooth roots. And we used to think he'd been poisoned as he'd lie around for a couple of days afterward. Well, he had been, but not by an irritated neighbor. By a shrew.

Don't mess with shrews, Chet Baker.

He plunges down a steep bank, a picture of unerring grace

and races by me smiling. Did you catch that? Was I magnificent?

Always magnificent, Chet Baker. The best doggeh.

I will show you magnificent. Try this pose.

Ahh, perfect. Look at that topline. Thank you for that one. You look like a fullback, missing only a small leather helmet. 

Here I come! Ready or not!!

I'm ready, Chet Baker. Bring it on.

It was a very dark day, still snowing, actually, and I had no business getting photos like this with a 300 mm telephoto lens, but mine is not just any telephoto lens. It is a dream lens, on a dream camera. Not to mention a dream doggeh.

All photos taken with my Canon 7D and Canon EF 70-300 mm 1:4-5:6 L IS USM telephoto lens. You can get yourself one from my friends at Midwest Photo Exchange by clicking the links. Questions? Ask for Sonnie. He's the Canon guy, and he is awesome.  P.S. You will never be sorry you got yourself an awesome camera and lens. The sorry is in not doing it.