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..."
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Another Mary, another time... This talented lady still inspires me! I wrote here about the old pieces of cloth from which this doll's clothing is made. It really makes her what she is! She has such a wonderful old look and feel; much more than the pictures show. She stands 13 inches, and is made of cloth and clay, Her hair and boots are also sculpted from the clay. I have named her Morning Star, and her young son will be called Small Son until he reaches the age at which he can be given a proper name.