Byron’s Hiding

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Pssst! (Whispers) Byron here–hiding from Lee because I talked him into laying off the nooze today and his views went down. Like it’s my fault! The one time he actually listens to me, and it doesn’t work!

Meanwhile, I’m still collecting birthdays so we can give birthday greetings to our readers when their big day comes up. So far we’ve only got a dozen, including a couple that we just missed by a few days. Don’t be shy!

Well, time for me to be heading home. The family’s playing Clue tonight, and it’s my turn to be Professor Plum.       See the source image

 


More Baby Goats

Are there any animals cuter or friskier than baby goats? No, not alligators.

Note how they try to butt dogs or people or each other well before they’ve grown any horns. One of these little warriors is just a tad bigger than a hamster.

Some of you out there must have had goats. Do they stay playful after they’re full-grown? Inquiring minds want to know.


Lady Margo’s Hand (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Introducing Chapter CCCXXIX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular writes, “Dear reader, I wish to introduce Chapter CCCXXIX by reminding you that years ago, in her youth, Lady Margo Cargo had her hand chewed off by a goat. Which hand, I don’t rightly remember. But do keep it in mind, for it’s bound to be important later.”

Frantic to raise money to put a new roof on Coldsore Hall and stave off his legion of creditors, thus saving his centuries-old family heritage, Lord Jeremy Coldsore grows increasingly desperate to conclude his marriage with Lady Margo, the richest widow in Scurveyshire. His latest scheme is to have the marriage performed in secret. “We can elope,” he explains to her, “and get married in an abandoned warehouse in the quaint rural village of Mucklethorp. No one will interrupt us there.”

“Isn’t that the warehouse where they found all those skeletons, years ago?” she asks.

“I am sure they have removed the skeletons by now, my sweet!”

“I don’t know about this,” Lady Margo muses. “I have heard the place is haunted. Who would perform the ceremony?”

“Geoffrey the Unemployed Shepherd has been ordained a minister of a mail-order church somewhere in India. Treat him to a bottle of Col. Gamba’s Special Blend, and he’ll marry anyone.”

Lady Margo is shocked. “Why, it was one of Geoffrey’s goats that chewed my hand off!” she cries. “I find it very hard to trust him!”

The chapter breaks here with a telephone call: the local cable TV station has offered Ms. Crepuscular a position as host of a new cooking show. She is too excited to continue writing.

“Just in time for me to share with the world my Toothpaste Yule Log recipe!” she exults. “With leftover crab meat, no less! I must hasten to the studio and see to setting up a kitchen!”

There is no truth to the rumor that the show will be called The Suicidal Gourmet.

 


Bonus Hymn: ‘Hold Fast Till I Come’

I’d never heard this beautiful hymn before, until just now, and I decided I liked it way too much to hold it off till tomorrow. I’m not going to run out of hymns to post, am I?

Hold Fast Till I Come, sung by the students at Fountainview Academy, against a backdrop of God’s handiwork–we can’t ask for more.

 


Barf Alert: ‘The Music Academy’

(Thanks to Susan for the tip)

This is the most obnoxious commercial I’ve seen in years. Something about financial planning seems to inspire ad men to their very worst efforts.

Here we have the teenage daughter playing the cello but ohnotoobad, she can’t go to the music academy because it’s too expensive and they ain’t got a pot or a window–that’s why Mommmm drives that crummy old car that stalls all the time. But unbeknownst to Little Miss Cello, Mommm has gone to Principal.com for her financial planning, and they’ve got it covered. We get to go to the dreadfully expensive music academy after all.

“I still have this car so you can afford to go,” Mommm explains. Heartstring time. They dive into each other’s arms.

Uh… where’s Daddy?

Shut up! Get out of here, Mr. Man, we don’t want you around! We don’t need you! Principal.com has got us covered. (Is Principal.com all women?)

Ah, well–is there any sacrifice too great to make for Higher Education?

Thousands of ’em, I’d say.


Impeach… Me?

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The Kook’ll get you if you don’t watch out!

Uh-oh. It’s looking bad for me.

Everybody who reads this blog knows I voted for President Trump and support his re-election. It’s on record–nothing I can do about it. No one will believe me if I say, “Wait, hold on, I see the light! Hey! Evo Morales has been kicked out of his job as socialist dictator of Bolivia–he can be our president!” Too late for that.

But the decisive horrible promble is… today I got a couple of views from Ukraine. That is to say, I have been in contact, never mind how fleetingly, with certain persons in Ukraine. And you’re not allowed to do that unless you’re a Biden abidin’ with the gas company.

The word has already come down from the House of Ninnies: I must be impeached. The fact that I’m not president of anything is immaterial. They can always make me president of something and then kick me out. Oh, the shame of it.

 


‘New York Values?’ (2016)

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I don’t much like that word, “values.” It leads into stupid discussions like the one Ted Cruz started in 2016.

https://leeduigon.com/2016/01/15/new-york-values/

I mean, come on–what are “values”? The word takes us another step away from good vs. evil, right vs. wrong. After all, everybody has his own “values.” You don’t have to wait long before the term becomes meaningless.

You won’t find “New York values” in the Bible–or anybody else’s “values,” either. We are to seek what God values.

“Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place? He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart: who hath not lifted his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully” (Ps. 24:3-4).

God doesn’t care what your “values” are.


‘There’s No Hiding Place Down Here’

Here’s a spiritual for you, by the Original Carter Family–There’s No Hiding Place Down Here. This is plain, this is simple; this is raw. But that’s how God’s Word is, sometimes.


Cats and Snow (a Festival)

Look, if we get some decent snow around here this year, I promise to go out and make a snow angel–and at least a snow baby, if not a snow man. It’s the least I can do to show solidarity with these cats.

Although, come to think of it, when I offered our cat Henry an opportunity to go outside and frolic in the snow, he took just two steps and then, with a loud meow of protest, looked up at me  with a dirty look that made me feel about two inches tall… Can’t please everybody, can we?


The Lord is One

From Marcia Settles’ blog, “A Mom Looking Up”

Language is a gift of God. Use it wisely.

A Mom Looking Up

While praying on Monday night I was reflecting on this verse and mulling over how 3 distinct persons can be One God. When trying to explain it to my son, I always used the egg analogy, but that is an imperfect analogy.

To make a long story short, this is how the Lord explained it to me:

We know Jesus is the Word who became flesh and that in Him and through Him were all things created. ( John 1:14; Colossians 1:16-17)

In the beginning, God spoke.

Father spoke, Jesus is that Word, and Holy Spirit is the breath which carried the Word.

Man often speaks out of turn and inappropriately. We say things we don’t mean, things we shouldn’t, things which are not true and things we later retract.

God is not like that. When He speaks, it is deliberate and always True.

The entirety of Your word is…

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