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..."


Tuesday, July 29, 2014

From Chip Butter's Journal...



Such a short time ago, it seems, we were celebrating the longest day of the year.  Now, the sun is dipping below the hill behind our house a little earlier each day.  Yesterday, I was a bit late leaving  for my walk over the trail, and I found myself wishing for a flashlight by the time I got back home. 

Celebrating the longest day...


It has been a good summer, thus far.  With ample rains, the crops have been good,








I have been reading Thoreau again, and have scribbled a few of my favorite passages in my little journal notebooks.  I think I should post these somewhere so I could read them often.

To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of the arts. Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its details, worthy of the contemplation of his most elevated and critical hour...

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived...

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms...








Our Little "Walden"... 





12 comments:

  1. Lovely post, Mary. I have an Emerson quote embroidered on a tapestry...one that I finished at the foot of my dad's hospice bed. Mr. Emerson had some profound things to share, didn't he?

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    1. Oh yes, there are several Emerson quotes in the journal too. Which one did you embroider?

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  2. Oh, forgot to mention--I love the mullein plant! :~)

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    1. You may have noticed that I have been mowing around this one ~ always leave them if I can. I am fond of most plants with wooly leaves.

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  3. Serenity. I can sit along this pond's shore too, smell the scent of the fire, the leaves....
    a beauty full gift you give with these photographs.
    and why Y and Z? why maybe the last?

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    1. Grace, yes, blessings all around. And in the desert too! Y and Z - naming dolls by the alphabet - now working on the last two. When I finish these two, I may sit along the pond's shore, smell the scent of the fire, the leaves.... come join me!

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    2. ahh. i see. ok then. and i will. I will come and sit and drink in this world of yours which is so different than the world
      i live in....it will be a balm. like the mullein. tho there is mullein galore in these parts

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  4. Looks like a nice place to get away from everything and everybody and just relax.
    Your doll is very pretty. Do you have Y and Z names?

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    1. Not sure about the names. For Y I had jotted down Yellow Elk, Yosemite, Yance, Year and Yule. Hmmmm!

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  5. Lovely post. Sometimes, I think I enjoy the isolation of the cabin too much. I do relish the simple life and you have just reminded my why!

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  6. I so enjoy the days when I can just stay home. Wondering if these old Ozark Mountains have anything to do with it...

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