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, April 28, 2015

A Garden Party...



It is the season of the whip-poor-will, for his springtime serenade has begun. "Whip-poor-will, Whip-poor-will," or "Chip-Butter-White Oak, "Chip-Butter-White-Oak..." (Which ever way it is. See my explanation above.)  So, in celebration, those of us here at Chip Butter White Oak are hosting a bit of a garden party. So, come on in...


  Nell is here to welcome all (hmm, that is, when she comes out of hiding)...

Now, don't mind the manners.  Some of us have a rude habit of staring...

The Rusty Rooster is standing guard... 

While others are simply brightening up a corner...

There's even a  place to sit and rest among the veggies...

Or in the azalea bed, if one doesn't mind a bit of rust on the seat of the pants...





Tuesday, April 14, 2015

April...


A picture is worth a thousand words...



New projects...



Old projects gone unfinished for too long...