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

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

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

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

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

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

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

waka of budouadana: Roots

RootsGreat exposed tree rootsHold the wet trail togetherAs 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

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,

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

Taking on the Torch

A week after the murder of Dr. Tiller, pro choice doctors, advocates, counselors, and health care providers are still thinking, “now what”?. During the Clinton administration there were numerous acts of violence by “pro-life” fanatics, doctors were killed and clinics were terrorized. Once Bush was in office there was a dramatic decline in “pro-life” violence, whenever the political administration is more conservative “pro-lifers” seem to settle down. With Obama in office will “pro-life” people continue to mobilize fanatics to commit these kinds of acts of terrorism? The pro-choice community must mobilize to demand access to basic health care rights, we must be willing to risk our lives, as long as “pro-life” advocates believe it’s their right to threaten to our lives.

I’m no doctor, but I am an educator, a counselor, a friend, a sister, and a resource. We have to continue to make our rights our reality. It’s not easy to commit to making our most basic rights accessible; in fact it’s much more difficult for many of my sisters. Life and circumstance does not always provide the ability to create one’s own reality. However, some of us can grab that torch and keep going forward. We will not leave our sisters in the dark, but we hold their hands and carry the torch as we all walk forward.

We need doctors who will perform abortions; young people in medical school are not choosing to perform abortions, very possibly because it means choosing to risk your life. Fifty Seven percent of abortion doctors are over the age of fifty, we need young physicians and medical students to step up to the plate and demand to learn abortion care. Some of us will be able to carry on this piece of the story in many capacities. Dr. Tiller was one piece of that story. He understood that abortion was about a women’s heart. We need people who are willing and able to risk their lives to make abortion health care an accessible choice.

At the vigil I went to, for Dr. Tiller, one woman gave her testimony regarding Dr. Tiller’s involvement in her life. She was from Wichita, Kansas and Dr. Tiller helped her birth mom choose to arrange an adoption. This woman believed abortion is a completely acceptable option even for her birth mother. However, she is here in this world because Dr. Tiller supported a woman’s choice, no matter what. Dr. Tiller also made sure the babies who were adopted were given to pro-choice families.

My mother had an abortion about four years before she got pregnant with me. When she got pregnant for the second time she was relatively young, single and unsure of what to do. She met a life long sister who offered to support my mom in any decision she made about her pregnancy. This woman offered to raise me with or without my mom’s involvement. She offered to hold my mother’s hand during an abortion or childbirth. She offered to support her in choosing to become a single parent. This woman held my mother’s torch. My mom had the support to commit to having a child because she had the support to choose any path she needed to take.

This woman is my aunt; she did support my mom in raising me and has always loved me like her own. As women, sisters, daughters, mothers, and friends we have to try and hold each other’s torch whenever possible. I am my sister’s keeper.

We need all people to step up to carry on the work to make reproductive choice a reality. Each of us must step up to make our rights our reality in whatever way possible. Some people will be able to go to medical school and can choose to perform abortions and provide women with information to make their own decisions. Some people will support a sister, a friend, or a stranger in working through a decision making process. Some people will work towards productive policy changes. Whatever torch you carry, this is time to step up, hold someone else’s hand, and walk forward.

waka of budouadana: Gratitude

GratitudeOur parents give usLife, care and independence,Proving selfless love,For which they ask for nothingBut a child’s pure gratitude.