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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..."


Friday, September 13, 2013

Nell...



Nell resting on "Pride Rock."  Oldest grandson gave this rock its name after watching Lion King.  


Nell and youngest granddaughter


Nell is home following yesterday's surgery to remove a tumor.  She seems to be doing well, but I am keeping my fingers crossed.




4 comments:

  1. love the pictures
    and Nell
    healing thoughts sent your way.
    Have a special day
    in your life
    this day...

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    Replies
    1. Thank you Ernestine. I know you understand the special love of a dog.

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  2. Get well soon, Nell!! Sweet little girl with you, Nell.

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    Replies
    1. Charlotte, your get well wishes were conveyed to Nell; she seemed pleased and sent you a big wag of her tail. (Now if someone would just care enough to please remove that old plastic collar thingie from around her neck so she could lick whereever she pleases.) Tom T. Hall says it so well, "...Old dogs, children, and watermelon wine."

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