But may it never be that I would boast
except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ,
through which the world has been crucified to me,
and I to the world.
Galatians 6:14

The LORD bless you and keep you.

What a squirrel wants, a squirrel eats
Its teeth gnaw away ‘til it’s done
What a squirrel starts, it always completes

Acorns and pine nuts are tasty treats,
Black walnuts are second to none
What a squirrel wants, a squirrel eats

The squirrel is clever, its feet are like cleats,
The race once begun is won
What a squirrel starts, it always completes.

The birds have a feeder with nuts and seeds
The pole is but a fun run,
What a squirrel wants, a squirrel eats.

Its vast stores of energy it never depletes
No matter the quarry’s a ton,
What a squirrel starts, it always completes.

It sees something fiery from the streets,
A gourd as bright as the sun,
What a squirrel wants, a squirrel eats,
What a squirrel starts, it always completes.

If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile you might recognize that poem form as a villanelle. If you haven’t, now you know. This is the third one I’ve written and although the rules are simple, it doesn’t leave a lot of wiggle room. Anyway, aren’t those charming photos? I took them from my kitchen while the squirrel was outside chomping away, oblivious to my intrusive presence.

This has been Thursday Verse Day with Lynniebeemuseoday.

I’ll probably delete when it’s complete with all the right beats and without cheat sheets. Now I wish I’d used the word “cheats” in my poem…

As I write this, we are expecting a strange winter storm for this time of year, mostly consisting of freaky high winds, dense fog, and then plunging temperatures overnight to produce icy roads with continued high winds. I took a walk a little earlier with the sky just starting to darken and rain coming down lightly. Everything looked photo worthy as I walked through the cemetery and since I was alone, I sang a few Christmas carols out loud. Yes, I am that weird.

Years ago when I was in my youthful 40’s I knew a woman who was probably about the age I am now. Every time we spoke to each other, her eyes would fill up with tears about something. I made a little vow to myself not to become like that. What a fool I was. What is it about aging that reduces some of us (you know who you are) to fragile bags of emotion? All this is to say that as I walked around taking photos, I found myself becoming verklempt (best word ever) at the ordinary beauty that surrounds us all the time. Why does it take looking through a camera lens to make me see it?

That color in the sky, the poignant sharpness of the ducks’ beaks, the wrinkles in the pond water, the cross lit up from behind… If you had been with me, you might have felt a little catch at your throat, too.

“Ah, Lord GOD!
Behold you have made the heavens and the earth
by Your great power and outstretched arm.
There is nothing too hard for you.”
Jeremiah 32:17

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, choking back a tear or two.

I have recently written about my experience with working at the State 4-H Office when I was in college. One of the stories I didn’t tell was about the time I did a copy job using color paper and forgot to put the white paper back in the copier. One of the secretaries, Lee, went to go do a copy job and came out fuming about people leaving color paper in the copier, ruining her work and wasting her time. Lee was a very intimidating older woman and I went all hot and cold with the realization that I was the culprit. In spite of fearing her response, I went over to her desk, admitted that I was the one who left the wrong paper in the machine, apologized, and volunteered to re-do the copy job. “Well,” she said coldly, “I guess that will have to do.” I finished the copy work for her and went to sit back down at my desk. One of the other extension agents, Stan, came over to my desk and said quietly, “I heard the whole thing between you and Lee and I came over to tell you how impressed I am with your maturity and sense of responsibility. It would have been so easy for you to let it go by without admitting that it was your fault. I commend your for your character. If you ever need a job anywhere, let me know and I will give you the highest recommendation.”

I don’t think Stan ever knew how much those words meant to me. I was still smarting from the sting of Lee’s scorn and feeling rather incompetent. It was a small thing for him to do, but it loomed large in my life – I have never forgotten it. The right words at just the right time.

When I was a young mother, I was in church one Sunday with one of our sons who was being rather squirmy and difficult, and my husband wasn’t with us (perhaps out of town). I struggled with him throughout the whole service and felt like a complete failure as a mother. I was near tears by the end and could hardly wait to leave. But as we were leaving the sanctuary, Mac L., one of the deacons, handed me a note that he’d written. It said, “I watched you with your son during the service and thought what a wonderful mother you are. I would have been so happy to have a mother like you and if you were my daughter, I’d be so proud.” Mac had grown up in the foster system, so he had never experienced any sort of stable home life.

I treasured that note. I don’t know if Mac knew how discouraged I was that Sunday, but God knew that I needed a word of encouragement. The right words at just the right time.

“Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such word as is good for edification, according the need of the moment, that it may give grace to those who hear.”
Ephesians 4:29

“A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.”
Proverbs 25:11

This has been True Stories with Lynniebeemuseoday.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning…unless you found these words to be fitly spoken.

Has the pumpkin become passé? In these days of white snow and crimson decorations on greenery, we have cast aside the colors of autumn, thrown into the dump heap of yesterday’s decor.

But I like these two flames in the midst of winter. They stand like beacons proclaiming the end of one season, making way for the next one. Do you need light in these ever-darkening days of December?

Perhaps these blazing lights on improvised lampposts foretell the coming of a brighter Light, one that is ablaze for all eternity, a Light that vanquishes the dark forever and forever more. But the blackest darkness doesn’t reside in a remote field after sunset on a winter’s day, it resides in our hearts. Don’t deny it – you know it’s true. There’s only one kind of cure for that; Someone had to die. It’s not a pretty story, but it has the best kind of ending: His life for yours, His light penetrating your darkness, His righteous garments covering your shameful rags.

Now do you understand our joy at Advent?

Break forth, o beauteous heav’nly light,
And usher in the morning.
Ye shepherds shrink not with affright,
The day of grace is dawning.
This child though weak in infancy,
Our confidence and joy shall be,
The pow’r of Satan breaking,
Our peace with God now making.
Johann Rist

Joy to the world, the Lord is come
Let earth receive her King!
Isaac Watts

This has been Monday Musings with Lynniebeemuseoday. It takes a mighty bit of musing to go from pumpkins to the Advent of Jesus Christ.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning while singing a joyful hymn. Join me! (In the hymn singing, not the deleting.)

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
The emblem of suffering and shame;
And I love that old cross, where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain.
So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross
‘Til my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown.
George Bernnard 1913

The Lord bless you and keep you.

WINTER:

This has been Saturday choosings and musings with Lynniebeemuseoday – with a nod to Gurgi of The Chronicles of Prydain.

No deleting or cheating with time so fleeting.

This just in from a small and seemingly peaceful town in Minnesota. Every year in December (or even starting in November), a group of Inflatables moves into town and begins a season of visual harassment. It used to be just one gang of Inflatables: Santa Claus, Snowman and the occasional Reindeer, with Santa as the indisputable leader. You’ve all seen them. They look innocent enough, but the harassment is real.

Until recently, they’ve had a complete monopoly on the local snow-covered lawns, but in a shocking upset this year, another gang has rolled into town, fighting for their share of the turf. Headed up by the nasty Grinch, this other group of ne’er-do-wells has attempted to gloss over the bad reputation of their leader by featuring the universally adored Baby Yoda. We talked to some people on the street (who declined to be named) and asked them what they thought of this unsettling development. “Well, I’m still loyal to the Santa gang,” said one man, “but I have to admit that I’ve been considering going with the Baby Yoda group next year.” Apparently, this man hasn’t realized that the nefarious Mr. Grinch (he’s a mean one!) is the actual boss, so Grinch’s diabolical plan has been an act of PR genius. And of course, we already know that Mr. Grinch has a Santa suit and knows how to use it.

When we stopped to talk to a woman in the neighborhood, she looked around carefully to make sure no one was listening and then said, “I just LOVE Baby Yoda! As far as I’m concerned, Santa is yesterday’s news. But don’t tell him I said that. I mean, I guess the old fellow still has a little bit of charm. But that Baby Yoda, I WANT ONE!”

When we went to interview Santa about this development, we were shocked to find him already down for the count.

Fingerprints were taken at the scene of the crime, but they were all smudgy and not much use. The forensic experts found some tell-tale green hairs in the snow, but will it be enough to make an arrest?

Meanwhile, Jesus, the real reason for the season, continues to show up in quiet manger scenes, unconcerned about the Battle of the Inflatables. He’ll still be there long after the last Inflatable has been deflated.

O come, let us adore Him!

This has been (mostly) Fiction Friday with Lynniebeemuseoday.

I might delete this in the morning, but I might not. Talk to my press agent, please – I’m not doing interviews right now.

Remember that scene on the train in “White Christmas” when they start singing about snow?

“It won’t be long before we’ll all be there with snow
Snow
I want to wash: my hands, my face and hair with snow
Snow
I long to clear a path and lift a spade of snow
Oh, to see a great big man entirely made of snow

Today’s the kind of day when that song is running through my head.

Snow…
Snow…
Snow…
Snow.

Snow drifts were like little mountains to us as children. The plows would go by and leave these mountain chains all along the sidewalks and we’d scale them like Mount Everest. We lived near a park with hills that were prime for sledding during the winter and we went there often. In fact, the sledding hills were named – we called them “King’s Hill” and “Queen’s Hill.” I don’t know who named them, but we all knew them that way.

We used regular sleds and toboggans, but when I was in junior high, the sled people put their heads together and said, “Why don’t we make a sled out of plastic? It will be a long sheet of plastic with a hole at the front for grabbing. Let’s call it a mini-boggan.” And the mini-boggan was born. These modern sleds curled up when you picked them up, but they were a lot easier to carry up a hill and they came in lots of bright colors. All the parents lined up to buy them and soon the sledding hills were full of these colorful plastic sheets with children on them.

One day my dad came down to watch us do some sledding and to take some movies of us with his super-8 camera. There were five us us kids in the family by then and he had us all pile up on the toboggan first for a nice shot of everyone going down. Have you ever been the last person on the toboggan? At the first bump, you end up on the hill watching everyone else go down. It’s true – ask anyone.

Then he went to the bottom of the hill to watch us from there. I came down a particularly bumpy part of the hill on my mini-boggan and when I hit a large divot at the bottom, I flew head over heels in a spectacular way. Dad was thrilled, but he hadn’t had the camera on, so he asked me to do it again. “I’ll film it in slow-motion – it’ll be great!” I wasn’t quite as thrilled about this proposition. My knees had taken quite a beating on the way down and the crash landing at the end hadn’t been nearly as fun for me as it was for him. But the show must go on! I went back up valiantly to do the whole thing over again. At least that was my intention. But when I saw that huge divot looming up before me, my knees made a unilateral decision and we veered to the left of it. Poor Dad…he tried to reassure me that it was okay, but I could see the disappointment of that missed shot on his face. He didn’t ask me again.

This has been Tuesday True Stories with Lynniebeemuseoday.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning – watch for me on the sledding hill where I’ll throw the blog post in the air on the way down. Whee!

The sun is just now setting, which reminds me that about a week ago I came downstairs in the morning just in time for the sunrise. If you wouldn’t run outside in your bathrobe and slippers on a cold morning to take a photo, then you can at least say that you know someone who would and did.

Sunrises and sunsets are a dime a dozen, but never commonplace. You may quote me on that.

I went to a Victorian Tea Party in Stillwater last Friday, meeting three old friends there. That’s “old” in the sense that we’ve known each other a long time. But to be fair, we’re all getting within spitting distance of being described as actually “old,” too.

I’m still having my own special “tea time” at 4:00 p.m. every day. Yesterday, I tried a mushroom tea for the first time. Interesting…very interesting. I’m surprised that mushroom tea exists, and that it’s not disgusting. With cream and sugar it was pretty good.

My blogging schedule will probably be a bit spotty from now until January 1. ‘Tis the season!!

I’ll probably delete this at tea time tomorrow, extending my pinky finger in the proper way.

And you, being dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, He has made alive together with Him,
having forgiven you all trespasses,
having wiped out the handwriting of requirements
that was against us, which was contrary to us.
And He has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the cross.
Colossians 2:13-14

The Lord bless you and keep you.