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..."

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Sundresses and Wilderness Trails...

The last of the little dresses are sundresses with coordinating jackets.  (I have now made four of these little jackets...think I could make one in my sleep.)  The dresses and jackets were made from fat quarters or pieces I found in my scrap box, so there was no cloth to spare, and certainly not enough for matching of dots and plaids.

My mother used to say that her mother said the only thing we can take with us when we leave this world, is what we have given away.  I once asked Mom if I could go with her to help carry her stuff, for she had given so much away.

So, I am adding the little dresses to what I have given away.  I hope the girls will be pleased.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I hear the wilderness trail calling.......

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Living Inside a Cloud.... (And, The Brown Corduroy)

There have been so many foggy days and foggy nights here, lately, it has seemed we must be living inside a cloud; certainly not days fit for getting out with the camera, or so I thought.

A couple of days ago, I had a strong desire to go exploring in search of something to  "shoot," so when Millie and I headed into that foggy cloud, my camera was right at hand.  I was surprised, but not disappointed, at the results.  In the top photo, I can almost see Thoreau stepping down to water's edge as he contemplates the day. 


Now for the brown corduroy... It is exactly like the red corduroy, except it is brown...my color, for sure.  Both dresses have back ties or sashes, just as my dresses had when I was a kid. ( I have previously written about those sashes here.)  There were four ties to be narrowly hemmed all around, so I pulled out the old Singer with her narrow hemmer attachment, and went to work.  She stitched as though she were new, right out of the box, despite the fact that she is now fifty years old.   It was good practice, for sure, but I think the next dresses I make won't have sashes. 

Thursday, January 12, 2017

The Red Corduroy...

Shakespeare once said that, "Clothes make the man," (which I strongly disagree with) but, if that were the case, do clothes also make the doll?

Our two youngest granddaughters might readily agree with that notion, for they surely do enjoy dressing their dolls (American Girl dolls) in nice clothes.  Hopefully, they will be delighted with the new clothes that Mrs. Claus is sewing for them. (She's a bit slow these days, it seems!) 

The Red Corduroy is the first of four.  One of my earlier dolls, Noelle, who hangs out here in the sewing room, has volunteered to model each one when it is completed, with the stipulation that she will get a new dress of her own when we are all done with the Santa Claus thing.

I remember well my best Christmas ever, when I got a trunk filled with doll clothes that Mrs. Claus had made.  Why, she could sew almost as well as my mother could!  The doll in the old photo below could well be the doll these clothes were made to fit.  This photo was taken on a long ago Christmas Day, when my little brother and I were posing with toys that Santa Claus brought.  It must have been a warm day for we weren't even wearing coats, and we both had a bad case of sun grins.   

Friday, January 6, 2017

Millie's First Snow...

"The night veils without a doubt a part of this glorious creation; but day comes to reveal to us this great work..." ~ Thoreau

Even though Millie is now eighteen months old, snow was something unknown to her, for last year's winter was without snow.



The Oaks seem to embrace it...

Two sets of tracks...hers and mine.  She won't ride!