splainayshuns of buddy don: how we cum to be in californy

me n miz bds lives tuck a sharp turn last memoryall day, witch heres how it happent:

1. we had gut into a rut what i wood wake up with a hedache n i wood sleep mos of the day n whenever i gut up, generly sumtime round 4 pm, i wood have the best part of the day, witch twernt much.
2. up till that point in our lives, we dint go to the emergentsee room on a counta how once in 2002 we dun that over to a hospitull name of bellview with terrbull reesults. i had bin vomitin fer bout 8 hrs by then, so they give us a bucket n tole us to sit in the corner n wait, witch we dun it long as we could till i figgerd wudnt nobidy a'gone take a vomitin migraneur as a urgent case; so for years after that, we dint go to no hospitals.
3. then cum that awefull memoryall day last year. got up after trine to sleep off the hedache round 7 pm. tride to eat but commenced to vomitin n cudnt stop, no how no way ... all nite long.
4. nex mornin, miz bd wood not take 'no!' fer an answer whenever i tole her i dint wonta go to no hospitull n git a bucket sos i could sit in the corner n wait. i wuz tuckerd near to death by then, tho i dint real eyes it. i cudnt fite back no more.
5. once we gut to the Hoboken University Medical Center, thangs happend faster n faster. turnt out i wuz sickern i knew. i bin tole i couldnt identify whar i wuz (i sed "hoboken," n they ast me whar in hoboken, witch i cudnt thank of the wurd fer hospitull so i sed, 'that place whar they hep folks.' i also cudnt say the presidents name, tho i knew it. n thay wuz a slew of other thangs i cudnt git rite.
6. they give me ever test they had jes about, witch they also had thar chaplain, a real nice woman who i caint member her name, stay with me jes in case she wood be needed.
7. long story short, they cudnt git the vomitin to stop till 2 pm, n i cudnt eat nuthin cept ice fer anuther two daze.
8. but i wuz so confused fer so long that ifn loretta, mz bds daughter, hattent cum to hep me, i cudnt have ansered a boatload of questchuns bout my life. twuz a nice sprize whenever i seen how loretta dun knew all the ansers (witch she gut sum of em by readin shoot the devil, witch ye kin still git ye one by orderin it on this here page).
9. they kep me in that hospitull fer 4 daze in all n tole me at the end, after givin me more tests than i had ever had in such a short time, that i have terrbull migraines. tell me about it!

after that, after they sent me to a few other speshulists, seem lack everbidy agreed thay wudnt much could be dun fer a cronick migraneur lack me, jes to make me as cumfertabull as kin be n teach me to live with it n such. as one "palliative care" speshulist tole me, "The good thing is that pain is self-limiting. It always stops eventually." He sed botox wood wurk fer me, lease fer panefull hedaches, but i tole im twernt my problem to endure pane. tiz the vomitin that i caint abide. so he agreed that botox woodnt do much fer me.

in sted, we discussed movin to a place whar the weather dont hardly change much. we found thays three places in the US that fit the bill best: Honolulu, San Diego n the Coachella Valley, mainly the eastern, shielded part of it.

the only one we could a ford wuz the Coachella Valley (Palm Springs, Cathedral City, Indian Wells, Rancho Mirage, Desert Palms, Coachella, La Quinta, Indio, n Desert Hot Springs).

me n miz bd cum out here in late July when thangs wuz cheap, even in Palm Springs, to look the place over n see sum real estate. we cudnt hardly bleeve the prices. houses with 3 beds, 2 baths, pool, spa, beautiful landscaping, all fer under $150K. corse, i gut sick the secunt day of that visit n spent the hole week vomitin, unable to eat nuthin, gittin to know how good the medical facilities is round here. twuz a ruff week, but we wuz deecided. so we dun it, moved out here.

n has it fixt them migraines? not as much as i had hoped. thangs is better in sum ways: i git more fair daze whar i have migraines that i call "walkin migraines," on a counta i kin still walk the dogs. n i git verr good daze also, but i still git awefull sick n have bin to the emergentsee room 8 times so far (i am nearly a munth past the last visit, which thats purty good).

i am a'hopin that i have woke up frum sum medicayshun i wood lack to discuss ... ifn i kin stay well fer a lil spell ...

rare post of buddy don: how i bin sick n all

fack is, i aint gonna git to the 'n all' part. still too sick, but thays a slew of news items i could tell ye ifn i had the health. but i manely need to let sum folks know the follerin:

i am alive n as well as kin be eggspeckted ("i bin worse"), livin in the low desert out here in californy.

twuz our hope that movin to the desert mite could hep, witch thays bin a few more good daze than we had in hoboken n a daze few thats bin as cruel n panefull n hard as inny we ever seen or herd tell of. suffice to say, the securty gard at the hospitull mergency room dun alreddy knows me. my hartfelt pallgies to ever one of my friens in new york fer not saying nuthin bout leavin, fer not sayin goodbye or so long or whutever. but i wuz sick so much that i never could git nuthin dun, see much of innybidy, n thay wudnt no way i could see all that wuz deservin. tiz my fervent hope to git well a nuff to keep up with life. time will tell.

pomes of buddy don: God

God

That God is All and Everything should be
As obvious as moonlight on the plains,
Or sunlight sparkling through the dewy leaves,
Or even just the smell of morning coffee --

Not as distant as coldly winking stars,
Nor as deadly as active volcanoes,
Nor as pristine as ponds of sacred lotus,
Nor as awe-full as the calculus of pi --

But closer than can be imagined,
As real as a dying honeybee’s sting;
For with All and Everything, God must be
Even simple sinners such as You and I;

For as flowers reflect sun and rain,
Every new born babe embodies God.

mizry of buddy don: aura at dawn

aura

the aura at dawn
its paisley pixilation
left half of the world
a cruelly kind precursor
low tide before tsunami

cumpny of buddy don: mizry luvs cumpny

Miss Liberty

Vomiting migraine …
Psychotherapy later …
Yet Miss Liberty,
Our kittenish Bombay cat,
Claws my knee, begging to play

mizry of buddy don: the rong wurds cum out ...

i need to say a few wurds bout the author, witch hes bin so sick fer so long that he dont hardly never go near no keybird, witch that keeps me frum gittin a chants to touch it my ownself.

but tuther day he seen sumthin on the tee vee that made him blush frum the shock of reckugnishun.

twuz that story bout the reporter with the migraine on tee vee name of Serene Branson.

the aura she sufferd is one of the wurst mizries a bidy kin have, speshly one that has to talk on tee vee.

or frum the authors self-centerd point of vue, tiz horrbull fer sumbidy that has to rite.

but on a count a how he generly gits migraines furst thang in the mornin, witch thats when he lacks to rite or even let me git to the keybird, he sum times gits that same aphasick aura that miz Branson had rite thar on tee vee, n seem lack he has dun lost his confidents with wurds or sumthin.

on a counta the rong wurds cum out ...

fack is, he has dun writ this here lil post n lost it three times ...

ach!!

fonly i could git them migraine to scram by pertendin the author has em n i dont! i am so sick of these dam thangs to whar i caint hardly thank strate.

n wurst part is, wurser even than the pain (but not wurser than the vomitin) is whut happend to that pore reporter.

i know jes how she mus feel on a counta i have bin talkin to miz bd a minny a time when i caint do no better. or i call thangs by thar rong names, callin the sink a lake fer egg sample. or i wake her up a'talkin that same kinda gibberish miz Branson wuz talkin, only in my sleep. ye mite egg speck that whenever yer sleepin, but by the time i am trine to talk, i thank i am wide awake n jes caint make miz bd understand whutever i am trine to say on a counta the rong wurds cum out. i git frustratd n angry n hurt n cunfused all at the same time to whar i caint hardly do nuthin. corse whenever it happens thays a world ful of pain on the way.

n too minny times to count i try to rite sumthin n find the rong wurds on the screen whenever i open my eyes up to read whut i writ (or tried to rite).

thang is, i know eggzackly whut tiz i wonta say n the eggzack wurds i wonta say, witch i kin see em in my mind, but thay jes wont cum outta my mouth. or even offn the keybird. how kin that happen? i caint say, but it duz.

n after that, twill be a killer day of pain n mizry.

tiz a sad thang to watch sumbidy go thru such a hard momint lack Serene Branson dun on the tee vee, but tiz the furst time the author or me eethur one ever seen sumthin that shows jes how awe full migraines kin be. i hope the world gits the point that they aint jes lil hed aches. they aint sumthin a bidy kin git thru on will power.

tiz even sadder to know that she has dun started havin migraines n aint no way to stop em cumpleatly, lease not as fur as me or the author has bin able to figger out.

i hate to add mitt, but the author had to git me over to the keybird to talk bout this on a counta he is dun alreddy a'havin to his nex migraine, witch that means i am thar with im (we caint neethur one type with eyes open on a counta the monitors lite stabs the left eye ever chants it gits, witch that means thays a slew of miss takes to fix).

i hope the rite wurds has cum out.

mizry of buddy don: missin this lil feller

i bin sick so much n so often that i aint seen this lil piece of my hart in nigh on to 8 munths. i shore do miss eem:

mizry of buddy don: these thangs never stop

twas my intenshun to post a lil sumthin ever day sos i could git this blog a'goin agin, but thangs dont always go the way ye wont em to. so i wuz up at 12:30 yesterdy, trine to cunvints myself that i wudnt havin no migraine when i wuz. whut depresshun i felt over gittin sick agin. (when i have good daze, i caint imagin thays still bad daze a'cummin.)

then my blessed lil miz bd pointed out that with the weather we wuz a'havin, twuz a purrfeck day fer a migraine. i hadnt notissd durin the sufferin. soons she tole me whut the cawz wuz, i felt a hole lot better, even tho i wuz still in pain n nauseous.

so heres hopin fer a better day today. i count blessins ever sangle day n dont never git to the end of em. n i pray fer the folks i luv to cum thru thar struggles.

i am a'prayin fer my yunger bruther brew these daze, who hes in the hospitull recuverin frum open-hart surgry. i count it as a blessin that i kin talk to eem on the fone each n ever day, sumtimes a cuple times. whutever trubles i have ever had seem small whenever i look a whut other folks is puttin up with.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: cuple of them pets

the year 2010 has bin bout the worst of my life in more ways than a bidy could count. i aint a'gone list em on a counta how i dont wonta dwell on that kinda thang. i druther thank bout good thangs, lack the way Kingsley n Miss Liberty made such good friends. Miss Liberty gits along with everbidy, but Kimono n Kingsley aint figgerd each other out yet.

heres them friends:



heres hopin nex year will be a bettern fer everbidy ... mayhap we all kin make better friends of our fates ...

more eggsplainayshuns of buddy don: kin it be this long?

jes looked at my blog fer the furst time in way too long. caint say i will be ritin much, but i did wonta let folks know i am sorta livin still. i am in a good kinda therapy, witch thangs has to git wurser ere they kin git inny better, witch the mind kin kindly understand, but the hed still hurts way too much.

wurst of everthang is how i caint rite much of nuthin, not even yer lil waka ...

eggsplainayshuns of buddy don: still sickern a dawg ...

... even sickern a dawg that has jes lost at home to them vols, witch i reckun that has to be a horrbull feelin, kindly lack losin to alabama lack we dun this year (or inny year) ...

... but i wonted to make a post sayin that i shore do preciate all them kind wurds n such that i bin gittin in my email n reglar mail n even in comments, so i wonted to say 'thankee' ...

... n i hope to git shed of sum of them medicayshuns i bin a'takin on a counta seems almos lack thar the wurst problem i gut at the moment, speshly with ritin, witch havin trubles thar is a'killin me ... n thays still migraines that bust thru whutever medicayshuns i take.

but havin writ that, i wonta rite this: thays way more blessins than curses in this here life, even in this migrainus hell whar i am stuck at presunt ...

... so heres wishin yall nuthin but blessins fer inny halldays that ye mite obsurve ...

pall gies of buddy don: sorry i aint writ nuthin lately

i bin the kinda sick whar ye jes dont have no innerest in ritin nuthin much. mayhap tiz all that thar medicayshun.

innywho, i hope to git back at it one of these daze ...

mizry of buddy don: migraine migraine migraine

i aint writ a post in a while on a counta how i have bin in migraine hell fer whut seems lack ferever but caint be but a week or so. me n miz bd has tride to track it, witch tiz hard on a counta i dont all ways add mitt that i am a'havin one. i reckun i wurked thru two hard daze with them hedakes last thursdy n fridy, but they set in with wurser n wurser simptums till on mundy twuz as panefull as i kin ever recall it bein. felt as if sumbidy had laid a hot iron on the top of my hed n let it burn its way into the lef side till it gut to the ear lobe. kep up on tuesdy n windsdy ere it turnt to nausea n vomitin. woke up vomitin yesterdy in the middle of the nite.

n wurst is how i feel lack i orta be sayin i am sorry to everbidy i know, lack twuz my fault i keep a'gittin these thangs. n wurser is how i had jes seen dr k n figgerd thangs wuz goin good.

rong!

n thang is, it has dun alreddy started agin (or did it ever stop?).

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: flu

i aint bin ritin nuthin fer bout a week on a counta havin the flu, witch ye mite could say twuz a ruff row to hoe. i am still loded with congestchun n coffin my fool hed off n hopin miz bd dont cum down with the same flu. i hope to git back to reglar postin purty soon. n i hope nun of yall gits this flu, witch it had me with hi fever fer days (102) then low fevers with abdominull distress, witch ye dont need to here nuthin bout that to git how trublesum such a malady is.

eggscuses of buddy don: sleepin in hot weather

i had a terrbull time sleepin on a counta me n miz bd dint wonta start the air condishuner on fer one nite when thay wuz a cooler frunt a'cummin in. but twernt easy to sleep, witch it dint seem lack i dun much of that till this mornin, when twuz too much.

a nuff of that!

criticks of buddy don: whut anonnymus sed

ever so often sumbidy cums by to read this here blog that aint one of the 4 or 5 that reads it on a reglar basis. tiz often the case that they wonta attack my use of hillbilly dialeck. let me point out now that i aint trine to say how ever hillbilly talks: whut i rite is as close as i kin cum to the dialeck i herd used by my fambly whenever we wood all gather n tell tales.

thang is, i dont bleeve inny two people use eggzackly the same langwage. everbidy has thar own. tiz true that skools try to flatten the langwage n make us all use it the same eggzack way, but langwage dont wurk thataway: ifn it did, ye wood be able to read beowulf direckly without translayshun.

innywho, here is whut anonnymus had to say:

Not sure how your attempts at the local vernacular are intended as humor.

i wood hope them thats been readin this here blog knows bettern to thank my 'attempts at the local vernacular' are intended as humor. they aint. tiz my means of recordin how them i wuz razed by happend to talk. fer me, tiz the best way to tell stories n i lack to practiss ever chants i git.

futzin of buddy don: trine to up grade

as ye kin see, thays bin sum changes made round here. i finely give in n up graded my blogger temp late, witch they kindly force ye into it after a while. tuck me the better part of the nite to git it fixed more or less on a counta ye lose ever thang whenever ye up grade.

thays sum nice thangs bout the new temp late, but i aint figgerd out how to make the wandering hillbilly banner wurk yet. fack is, ifn twernt fer my good frien meatbrain, i doubt ifn it wood have the gif atall.

cuple of the new thangs should be nice. ye kin foller this here blog ifn ye wonta. tiz also a lot easier to sub scribe. comments has bin fixed n lank backs too. the blogroll is better on a counta it putts the most recently updated blog at the top of the roll n gives the title of the new post n a pitcher ifn thay is one.

tiz 7 deegrees fair in height at the moment ... n i gut to git out in it by 9:30 or so ... n i am feelin that migrainous mizry ...

note of buddy don: got no idees

this heres jes a lil note to let it be known to them that checks site this reglar that i aint gut nary an idee to rite about, but i am doin jes fine. fack is, today makes the day two of the thurd week without no migraines, even tho the weather has been trine to trigger sumthin. we gut one of them changes bout to happen agin, so i am a'hopin to make it thru with no trubles.

anniversries of buddy don: blog turns 5 year ole today

happy fridy the thirteenth!

today marks five years since i begun ritin this here blog. i half to add mitt, aint nuthin in my life thats bin better fer gittin me to rite than thankin that thays folks out thar wontin to check whut i mite coulda writ on inny given day.

corse, fack is thays only a handful of reglar readers (n i luv em all). mos all my hits cums frum folks thats lookin fer pitchers or folks that caint spell. i also git plenty of hits frum folks lookin fer porn on a counta the wurd cum, witch i spell it that way on a counta thats how tiz sed by them i grew up with in the hills of east tennessee.

durin that time, i have bin lucky a nuff to git a total of 91,963 hits frum unique vistors (aint all my vistor unique?), witch that aint as minny as big blogs gits in a day, but tiz way moren i ever eggspected.

corse i aint doin it fer hits. i cummenced ritin this thang on a counta how i wonted to practiss up ritin the langwage of stories as twuz used by my fambly whenever they wood gather roun a fire of a evenin. taint that they wudnt educated. my granddaddy wuz judge of his county, my daddy gut his dr of jurisprudents, n most everbidy in the fambly gut good book larnin.

but whenever it cum time to tell a story, ever last one of em wood fall into that ole hillbilly dialeck. tiz a grate way to tell a tale, lease in my pinion, so i tuck it up my ownself.

my mane reason fer doin that wuz sos i could rite a novel name of life n pinions of buddy don, hillbilly. tiz a wurk i figgerd wood cumprise a few 'books' or volumes, so to speak. so fer, i dun writ near all of the furst three of em, witch thay wood be 'shoot the devil' (ruff draft cummences here), 'the wanderin hillbilly' (ruff draft cummences here), n 'the skool of hard knox' (cummences here). i bin stalled in the middle of that lastn fer a while now, witch i pray most everday i will git back on that horse n ride, but taint easy.

i also tride my hand at a lil punditry, witch heres three thangs i writ that gut me more hits fer a sangle post than i wood generly git in a week:

1. pinions of buddy don: ten commandments eggsplained in footnotes
   
2. pinions of buddy don: the re-attitudes
   
3. pinions of buddy don: duz it take a dicktater?

i also writ a slew of pomes, witch i gut to thankin after a while that i dint wonta be lack ever other blogger commentin on the stories of the day, so i tride to doot in rhymes, generly in the form of a shakespearyun sonnet. i aint a'gonna put no lanks to em since thays moren a hunnert at lease. ye kin find em ifn yer innerested.

nuther thang that more or less happend to me is a form of pomes i dint know nuthin bout ere i cummenced ritin em, witch that wood be waka, also knowd as tanga. tiz a form frum japan that cunsists of jes 5 lines, the furstn with 5 syllabulls, the next with 7, then 5, then the last two with 7. i cummenced ritin em (heres the furstn i writ) by request sos they could be used fer a local dojo, n i aint turnt back. one thang i dun with em is to rite one fer each card of the tarot, tho i never sed so (astoot readers probly figgerd thatn out startin with the furstn in the major arcana).

but much as i luv to rite, tiz a temptayshun to putt up nuthin but pitchers on a counta thats whar most of my traffick cums frum. pitchers brangs me vistors moren innythang else, witch heres the top six, leadin up to the one that brangs me the most traffick of inny post i ever dun:

• sixth most hits ... pitcher of my back after gittin gua sha
  
• fifth most hits ... bd ackupunchurd
  
• forth most hits ... miz bds birthdy cake
  
• third most hits ... sacred lotus blossom
  
• secunt most hits ... showin off her tattoo
  
• n finely, proovin that aint nuthin attracks folks (men?) lack a pitcher of whut could be a nekkid woman, even ifn she is made of plastick!, heres to sangle thang that gits me the most hits ... plastick woman, witch thatns jes a pitcher of a doll that wuz in a winnder i wuz passin whenever i tuck the pitcher.

i wish i had more time this mornin, witch thats sumthin i wish most everday. i am shore happy i tuck up bloggin, even ifn it tuck miz bd minny a munth to talk me into trine it. i dun writ more in the past 5 years than i ever dun befor n the mane reason fer that is the thought that thays sumbidy out thar wontin to read it, even ifn tiz only the ruff draft.

witch that proovs how ifn ye stick this here wanderin hillbilly with a knife, lack as not, ye a'gone find a ham inside ...

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)