About Blog Title...
As a child, it was one of my greatest delights to visit my grandparents in the spring when the whip-poor-wills began to call. Grandma and Grandpa lived in a remote valley of the Ozark Mountains where there were trees a plenty, and, seemingly, a whip-poor-will, or two, in each one.
My grandmother insisted that a whip-poor-will's call was not "whip-poor-will," but instead, "chip-butter-white-oak." I would listen really hard trying to hear it exactly as she said it was, but all I could hear was "whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,..." But, I never let on to her.
I remember my grandpa watching and listening, with an amused look on his face, to one of these listening sessions. Shortly after that he began to call me, just for fun, "Chip Butter." It is a name I am proud to wear for I still love to hear that long, lonesome call on a warm summer's eve. And, sometimes, when I listen really, really hard, it seems I can hear quite clearly, "chip-butter-white-oak, chip-butter-white-oak..."
Sunday, November 11, 2012
A most welcome rain has been falling today, making for a wonderful day to relax and stay inside (after the outside work was finished) where we were quite happy and content. One of our little pleasures is watching the cattle on their trail that runs behind our house. When the weather is stormy or rainy, the cattle move to the upper pastures, I assume, because of some natural instinct. They walk one behind the other, single file, in a procession. There is one cow who always goes first. I wonder how she gained this status, whether self-appointed (which I suspect), or if elected by the other cattle. Not only is it pleasurable to watch the cattle parade by, but a time to make sure the count is correct and to note the general health of each. Now, there are some exceptions to the single file rule...the calves. They often come frolicking along together, kicking up their hills in their play, usually not along side their mothers at all. They are curious, as youngsters usually are, and sometimes stop to nibble and lick on the fence. If they see us in the yard or through the windows, they stop to stare as though they enjoy watching us as much as we enjoy watching them. I am thankful that I have the camera, and they do not.
Today, the calves didn't seem to mind the rain, and took time to stare at a visitor who was parked in the driveway.
And, another decided, despite the rain, that it was time for a warm frothy drink.