Category: Squirrels

Wednesday, September 16, 2026 Fashion Rules and Striped Ground Squirrels

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These two things have no point of intersection, by the way, in case you were hoping for an essay in which the fashion rules of striped ground squirrels was in the offing.

First, fashion rules. On some level, it seems like one should be aware of these things, but I have remained embarrassingly unaware. About 10 years ago, someone let slip to me that we are not supposed to wear white before Memorial Day and after Labor Day. I feel a little haunted by that revelation. In my ignorance I could wear white whenever I felt like it, but now, having received the Law of Wearing White, I am aware of and accountable for this Fashion Sin. Today someone told me that she wouldn’t be able to wear neon green very much longer because of the time of year. Okay, not that I’ve ever had neon green in my wardrobe, but what’s that about? She also told me that the Law of Wearing White includes white shoes. What?!? Please don’t tell me anymore.

Now for the striped ground squirrel, my latest postcard painted from a photograph I took a month ago.

I call him “Stripey Guy.”

If there’s a fashion rule about deleting blog posts, I don’t want to know about it, because I’m used to doing it in the morning.

Tuesday, April 7, 2026 Commonplace Quotes: The Spring Coat Edition

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There’s a transition that occurs sometime after we’ve had a few warm days, in which I cross over to spring in my heart and in my imagination. The practical outworking of this is that I dress foolishly for the outdoors. It’s spring! What do you mean it’s only 30 degrees out? I shall wear my spring coat anyway. I saw someone today wearing shorts outside, which is a more hard core application of this than I can do.

Put your spring coat on, people.

It is spring again.
The earth is like a child
that knows poems by heart.
Rainer Maria Rilke

Ah, lovely, lovely thought. The earth knows the poems of the seasons by heart because the Poet Himself has done the teaching.

When the winds of change blow,
some people build walls
and others build windmills.
Chinese Proverb

I’m more of a wall builder when it comes to change. But think how much better to turn a profit on it by building a windmill. Is it possible? Only by God’s grace…

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And I gave it up.
And took my old body and went out
into the morning
and sang.
Mary Oliver

Perhaps just that, going out into the morning and singing, is enough to start building that windmill. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow…”

‘The sun was warm
but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
Robert Frost

You do know how it is on an April day. Unless you live somewhere in the South. Then you might not.

The world shimmers with spiritual meaning that lies just beneath the surface, winking at us through stone or tree or bird or star…. Artists are not creating things so much as finding them, uncovering truths God has already planted in His creation.
George MacDonald

Next time you step outside, pay attention to what is winking at you. Do you see the shimmer?

For lo, the winter is past,
the rain is over and done;
the flowers appear on the earth;
the time of the singing of birds is come.
Song of Solomon 2:11

I saw yesterday that our chive plant is starting to come up. Lo, the winter is past.

Local Squirrel Investigates Early Chive Growth

Lo, the blog post is past. In the morning.

Thursday, January 15, 2026 The Woodlands

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I got another new set of paints entitled “Woodlands.”

Even the name “Woodlands” felt poetical, so naturally, poetry ensued. The first one isn’t so much a poem as it is a bunch of phrases using the names of the paints in the palette (in bold). The second one had me reaching further for the images I wanted.

Woodlands I
I walk the sand ridge
Till I see a cavern in the mist,
And a bear in its shadows.
Looking for daylight,
I cross the stream,
Stepping on gray stones.
Suddenly, I’m in the thick of redwoods
And deep moss
And foxberry bushes.
At last I see the blue-green glitter
Of sunlight on the pond.

I was a bit perplexed by the color “foxberry,” but decided that if there is a foxberry, there must be a foxberry bush.

Woodlands II
The woodlands call –
Pine-scented voice,
Checkered sunlight,
Scattered bird song,
Skittering critters,
Whispering leaves,
Glitter-green pond,
Fallen acorns,
And the deep
dense
presence
Of the LORD God Almighty.

I might write out the second one in the blue space at the top of the painting. Thoughts? Opinions? Critiques?

I sense that a squirrel will gnaw on this post with its strong jaws and teeth in the morning.

Monday, March 3, 2025 Back At It

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The older I get, the less capacity I have to fit multiple things in the mental space that is my brain. Hence the two-week break from posting on this blog. Other things were occupying the Space Formerly Known as Blog Posting.

But it’s a new week, one in which space has opened up again. It’s time to share some random photos from February and finish up with a list of Daily Benefits.

The Scepter of the Fairy Queen
Playing peek-a-boo with a squirrel.
“Please kind lady, could you give me a peanut?”
“Much obliged. Thank you. Now leave me to eat in peace.”
A visitor to our yard.
Our latest granddaughter! Adorable!!! ❤️

Note: Even though my readership is small, this is a public blog, so I don’t use the proper names of our grandchildren on here. For that reason, I ask those of you who know the names not to mention them in your comments. Thank you!

Blessed be the Lord, who daily loads us with benefits:

Grandchildren!

The miracle of babies.

Black bean soup…yum

Body parts that still work.

Warm days in early March.

Letters in the mail.

Neighbors who will text you when you have an eagle in your front yard.

Psalms, hymns and spiritual songs.

All righty then! I think it’s time for my usual sign off: I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

May 14, 2018 Fat Little Buffer

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I took a week off of blogging whilst we were traveling. I had thought to keep it up, but then a second thought (a vacationing kind of thought) overruled the first thought. There you have it.

During the aforementioned travels, we listened to an audio version of the P.G. Wodehouse book Love Among the Chickens. One of the characters, Ukridge, uses the phrase “fat little buffer” in describing a man he’s met. This phrase gets repeated a fair number of times as Ukridge labors to explain that no one could possibly object to being called a “fat little buffer.” I knew immediately that this phrase would have to enter my general lexicon. Doesn’t it just cry out to be spoken aloud? I enthused to my husband that I was so taken with the description that he could probably get away with using it on me, but then I tried it out experimentally: “How’s my fat little buffer today?” No. That will not do. At any rate, while we were listening, we stopped at a rest area and lo and behold, it was replete with fat little buffers! The technical term for these critters is probably “ground squirrel,” but we shall dispense with that and put them squarely in the FLB category.

Where has this phrase been all my life? Three cheers for Wodehouse!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

April 18, 2018 Squittel

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We once listened to a Redwall audiobook narrated by Brian Jacques himself. It turns out he has a quaint Liverpudlian accent, which rendered the word “squirrel” more like “squittel.” Ah, those Brits – they make everything sound better. Back to the topic at hand. When I was a young lass, I had delusions of grandeur about becoming the neighborhood “Dickon,” able to tame critters and have them follow me around. My first attempt was with a baby squirrel. I patiently held food in my hand while the little guy got closer and closer, skittering back now and again in fear, but generally moving in the right direction. Closer, closer…I urged silently. Finally my patience was rewarded. He overcame his fear and began to eat food right out of my hand. Just as I was congratulating myself, he relapsed into fear mode and sank his teeth into my thumb. I yelped in pain and flung my hand out, effectively throwing him across the driveway. My delusions of grandeur had not allowed for the possibility of pain and setbacks (the word “delusions” is instructive here). I was done.

Instinctual fear is hard to overcome – don’t I know it. Although the Bible is sprinkled liberally with “Fear not,” I often relapse into fear mode. I attribute it to delusions of control.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.