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..."

Monday, February 25, 2013

A Wonderful Rainy, Stay Inside, Kind of Day...


  1. Beautiful Kitty. Is this a cat house? Steve built our cats one but, a possum has taken it over....we are going to evict it by taking it inside the shop for it's paint job! I always enjoy your photos. They are very lovely. You capture the beautiful Ozarks so well.

  2. Sherri, I saw your cat's cedar home...very nice! Our cat's house is not quite so fine; just the storage space underneath a cedar bench. We simply sawed an opening in the end for the cat. To feed him, we just raise the seat. We have a couple of outside dogs that keep the o'possums away.