pitchers tuck by buddy don: good year fer them roses

tuther week me n miz bd tuck ourself over to the brooklyn botanick garden on a counta twuz time fer them roses to be at thar peak, witch they wuz.

twuz a verr odd day fer us in a way on a counta how even tho i wuz mindin my own bizness n keepin rite close to miz bd, on three differnt occashuns women cum up to me as ifn she wudnt even thar. furstn wuz in the subway whilst we wuz a'waitin fer the train, but i dint hardly notiss.

secunt one wuz on the train, a purty yung woman with a east europeon ackcent who wonted to ast me questchuns bout my camra, cummin to sit at my side even tho miz bd wuz sittin rite thar on tuther side!

lucky fer me miz bd aint the jellus type on a counta later on, whenever we wuz in the rose garden takin pitchers, a group of four women cum up to me n ast wuz i takin pitchers of roses that wudnt purrfeck? looked to me lack these ladies mite coulda cum frum japan or china or korea, witch i caint tell the differnts tho i gut a korean friend who sez he kin tell nine times outta ten. innywho, it tole em i lacked to git pitchers that showed jes how fleetin the beeyooty of them roses is, meanin a pitcher that shows one thats dun on the deecline, one thats jes bout reddy to bloom, n one thats purty much as good as twill git.

them ladies laffd n ast could i take thar pitcher on a counta they wuz jes lack them roses, with one bout to bloom, one in bloom, n a cuple that wuz ... then they laffd agin. thang wuz, as they wuz walkin round to whar they wonted thar pitcher tuck, one of em eggsplaind that a nuthern had cancer n dint have long to live. twuz odd that ye couldnt tell witchn twuz on a counta thay wuz all smilin n flirtin n havin em a real good time. ifn i had been a lil quicker on the uptake, mayhap i wooda tuck a pitcher of em. but i dint.

i did git the pitcher that led em to astin whut kinda pitchers i wuz takin, witch here tiz ...

pitchers tuck by buddy don: refleckshuns in a stretch limo

dreams of buddy don: sumday

tiz my dream that sumday i will share this view ...




with this lil feller ...

pitchers tuck by buddy don: rurnt

tuther day buck putt up a comment on a post i dun bout our furst grandson ezekiel. he ast:

I get the feeling that Ezekiel might be "rurnt"

Any truth to that? :-)

rurnt? that lil un aint hardly rurnt lessn ye mean even more spoilt than that proverbyall rotten apple that sent the hole barrel down to ruinayshun! n ifn he aint rurnt yet, tiz only proof that we gut us sum wurk yet to be dun.

i am shore buck wood be deelited to know that me n miz bd dun give lil ezekiel a cuple vols outfits fer his furst birthdy on a counta how taint never too soon to be thankin bout collidge! i wish i had a pitcher of eem a'wearin em, witch i hope to git one rite soon.

till then, ye will have to make do with these ...

furst, here he is showin how he alreddy knows how importunt it is to git the ball (n notiss the nice colors of that thar ball!) ...


here he is a'trine to wipe the smile offn lorettas face (taint lackly) ...


n finely, here he is takin a look at the cake his mama made fer eem, witch she made one that looks lack a rubber ducky!

pitchers tuck by buddy don: one year ago today

i have herd it sed that whenever ye start to git ole n notiss how most thangs in life is kindly a'gittin a lil wurses, along cums one of lifes gratest bonuses: a grandchild. one year ago today, me n miz bd n a slew of other folk was down at st vincents hospitull in the greenwich village waitin fer the arrival of a lil feller, witch we dint know till he wuz born whuther he wuz a'gone be a boy or a gurl.

this is the lil feller then:


n here is the same feller at his furst birthdy party, witch i hope he has at lease a hunderd more of em!

pitchers tuck by buddy don: ezekiel cuntinues his escape attempts

they say t he fruit dont fall far frum the tree, witch that means them kids is a'gone turn out a lot lack thar parnts. tiz the case with ezekiel on a counta hes jes lack tony whenever ye tell eem sumthin aint allowd. that then becums the verr thang he wood wonta do.

as menchunned yesterdy, ezekiel wonted to go outside. evertime he gut a'loose, thats whar he wood hed. heres sum pitchers of a attempt that wuz halted by miz bd closin the door.











finely, his daddy had to pick eem up! thats his mama in the background n as ye kin see, he still had his eye on the prize!

pitchers tuck by buddy don: ezekiels furst birthdy party

ezekiel wuz born one year ago on windsdy, but thay wuz a party up in westchester yesterdy, so me n miz bd wint, witch we woodnta missd it fer innythang. i aint even close to finishin them pitchers frum le conte, so ye kin jes magine how far behind i am with pitchers of the party! (n i aint even tride to look at sum pitchers tuck last week at the brooklyn botanick garden ... maybe sum day.)

but heres a few of the birthdy boy his ownself ...

furst, heres one with his ant loretta n grandma dolly ...


ezekiel has larnt eem two kinds of mobilty. witch his favert by far is the crawl ...


thang is, he aint a year ole yet, but he alreddy knows to go whar they tole eem he caint go, witch he hedded fer the door trine to go outside ever time he could git hisself outta the arms of all them that wonted to hold eem ... here he is a trine to git to that door ere sumbidy closes it or picks eem up ...


even when he wuz bein held back, he knew whar he wonted to go ...


folks wonted to see eem walk, but he dint much wonta comply with thar wishes. in sted, ever time they putt eem on his feet, he started a'jumpin up n down. i gut this shot off ere he wuz a'jumpin too much to catch ...


as ye mite magine, thays a slew of pitchers yet to be posted ...

pitchers tuck by buddy don: views frum the top

cuple thangs to say bout this here blog. miz bd gut me a doe mane name of wanderinghillbilly.com, so ye kin jes type that into yer browser ifn ye wonta visit! wudnt that nice of her? nuther thang ye mite wonta notiss is how i putt a lank up to whar ye kin see all them pitchers tuck by buddy don over on my smugmug site. caint figger why that didnt occur to me ere now, but thar ye go.

heres a few more frum le conte, witch ifn ye aint notissd, tiz one of my favert places, speshly this particular trail ... ye git sum nice views frum yer top, witch that means yer on the way down ...

pitchers tuck by buddy don: made it to the top

these here pitchers should be proof a nuff that me n miz bd made it to the top of mt le conte, witch tiz a thang that gits a lil more doubtfull ever year that passes (but we dun purty good fer a cuple fifty-sumthins!) ...

furst, heres whar a bidy could git a bite to eat n a lil perteckshun frum the cold ...

pitchers tuck by buddy don: in them clouds

whenever ye hike in them smokies, ye are verr lackly to find yerself up in them clouds. tiz why they call em the smokies, n tiz why everythang is sorta hazy. tiz moist, clean n as sweet smellin as innythang thay is. heres a cuple pitchers that shows them clouds ...

pitchers tuck by buddy don: shovel reddy

by the way, i bin puttin up pitchers everday kindly lack a eggspearmint on a counta i have notissd that the more pitchers i putt on this here blog, the more traffick i git. i reckun it has sumthin to do with googles algorerhythms or sumthin. ifn i kin keep it up, mayhap i will see hunderds dozens of vistors everday!

innywho, one of the thangs me n miz bd seen a lot of whenever we clumb mt le conte wuz a gang of fellers that wuz a'fixin the trail, witch on a counta the rain, twuz nigh onto bein a crick n not a trail. (aint no tellin whuther thays wurkin on a counta that stimulus money, witch we wuz glad thays a'wurkin no matter whar thar pay cum frum.)

woodnt that be a grate job to have? climbin them mountains everday, wurkin to keep them trails safe, sleepin up in the lodge ... they claim sumbidy wuz able to climb down the mountain in 30 mints n back up in a hour n a half, witch thay wuz on a beer run!

innywho, heres a cuple pitchers of one of them nice fellers ...

waka of budouadana: Roots

Roots

Great exposed tree roots
Hold the wet trail together
As they grip the earth,
Trapping water in crannies,
Reflecting the world above.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: alum bluff trails rocky rode

anniversries of buddy don: blog turns 5, er, 6 year ole today

i caint hardly bleeve it n cum nigh on to missin it, but today makes six year i bein a'ritin thangs in this here blog. twuz a thang i dun on a whim n manely sos i could practiss ritin in hillbilly dialeck till i could git it reglar. ye mite notiss i dint say 'till i could git it rite' on a counta aint no rite bout it. i doot the way i herd my elders a'doon it whenever thay wuz a'tellin each other stories bout how twuz a'growin up way back in the hills of east tennessee.

n then one thang kindly led to a nuther n then on to six year of ritin. fack is, aint nuthin hepped my ritin more, witch by that i mean nuthin has ever kep me productiv fer so long.

corse the reason fer that is all yall, witch somehow the thought bout ye readin whutever i git round to ritin makes me wonta rite sumthin fer ye, even ifn i aint gut no idee whuther thays moren one or two that ackshly reads innythang here (almost all the traffick that cums to this site cums to look at a pitcher they found in googles images).

but the idee of readers has gut me to rite thangs i never thunk i wood rite, including shoot the devil, witch tiz the furst book in life n pinions of buddy don, hillbilly, not to menchun all these other thangs as of this here anniversry):

• 342 pinions of buddy don


• 335 pomes of buddy don, witch a bunch of em wuz waka


• 208 waka of budouadana


• 147 chapturs of life n pinions of buddy don, hillbilly


• 287 pitchers tuck by buddy don


• n too much infermayshun on topicks lack migraines n other persunull junk

so to all yall, i say, thankee verr verr much fer bein my muse n mane inspirayshun, whut gits me up a 4 in the mornin sos i kin maybe cum up with sumthin to rite or mayhap a pitcher to show ye ... lack this ackcidentull self portrutt:



yall cum back now!

mizry of buddy don: wuz it a migraine?

yesterdy i woke up with a killer hedache on the rite side of my hed, eggzackly whar them migraines hits me. thang wuz, i dint have a lot of tuther stuff that cums long with a real migraine, witch ye mite could call em psykologicull effecks. so i went to wurk n dun a presntayshun to our global team n gritted my way thru a cuple other importunt meetins n then went in fer a meetin with my boss, witch he tuck one look at me n ast me 'why are you here? why aren't you at home taking your medicine?' i tole eem twuz a panefull thang but not as bad as it could be -- i dint have to vomit nun, fer instunts -- but he let me tell eem a cuple thangs bout my trip to mason n then tole me to go home.

so i dun it n nex thang ye know, i had dun slept the afternoon away.

but i tuck a pitcher on our trip up mt le conte that kindly shows ye how these thangs feel, witch ifn y magine yer a tree, thank how it mite hurt to have this a'growin outta the side of yer hed ...



ifn ye look real keeful lack, ye mite could see whut look lack a cuple faces in that lump on the side of the tree. miz bd sees one thats kinly in profile a'lookin to the rite, n i see one thats gut horns on his hed lookin strate to the left. mayhhap thays two of em in thar?

looks almost lack that poor tree wuz invaded by sum angry spirit that had to show its face, makin a ugly bulge on the side of the tree, witch cum to thank of it, thats a lot lack a migraine feels ceptn tiz yer hed insted of a tree trunk.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: nuthern frum le conte

seems lack i bin trine to ketch my own tail ever since gittin back frum vacayshun. i gut to be at wurk early today sos i kin brush up fer a presentauyshun to our global team, so i wont have much time to do innythang moren post a nuther pitcher frum le conte, witch as anne johnson sed in a comment, 'Ain't the mountains wunnerful fer bein bettern art?' tiz a fack, ma'am!

eggscuses of buddy don: overslept agin

jes couldnt make myself fall back asleep when i woke round midnite but then couldnt wake back up once i finely fell asleep long about the time i generly git up.

heres a pitcher frum our hike:

'vacayshuns' of buddy don: ruff grate mothers tour of 2009

me n miz bd lacks to take whut we call the grate mothers tour of whutever year it is that we git a chants to go visit our mothers, mine in tennessee, hern in ohio. we generly rent a car n drive to one place or tuther n then home, witch this year we had a lil stop in washingtun deecee that miz bd had to make on a counta she is lobbyin our jr senator to do the rat thang with respeck to the unitin amurkin famblies ack.

well, thangs couldnt have gone hardly no wurser than they dun. my mama had to go to the hospitull on the secunt day we were thar, had to have hart surgry the forth day n dint git out of the hospitull till the fifth day, witch by then we needed to git on to ohio. i am deelited to say she seems to have cum thru the surgry purty good (taint that easy to tell, but we are hopefull n thangs aint gut no wurser since).

but thay wuz sum good moments, speshly climbin mt le conte, witch we wuz a'doin that whenever mama was a'goin to the hospitull. whut a sprize to leave in the mornin with her a'doin jes fine n then to cum home to find eli thar splainin how she wuz back in the hospitull agin.

but heres one of a bout a thousund pitchers i tuck of our hike up the mountain ...

waka of budouadana: Gratitude

Gratitude

Our parents give us
Life, care and independence,
Proving selfless love,
For which they ask for nothing
But a child’s pure gratitude.