Opinions

I am delighted to report that my mother has come around. I have been lobbying my mother for months to take pity on a little red squirrel who had acquired a great fondness for her, demonstrating his devotion by digging up all her flowerpots and gazing at her for minutes at a time through the window. My mother spent the summer shooing him off the deck and telling him to “scram” when she saw him through the window.

Given that Jesus was a carpenter by trade and hung out with the likes of fishermen and tentmakers, I should not have been too surprised by the comfort offered me by two painters.

Dedicating our heart to God will be our most important decision. Individuals who devote their lives to Christ are aware of what is at stake and embrace the burden of praying for the lost and testifying about God’s love. For those who rarely venture out beyond the safety of the church and spend the majority of their time within the comforts of private isolation, it’s common to forget how far the world has fallen away from the reverential fear of God, especially in the last few years. We should not be surprised as there are several passages that warn us about the culture and even the religious world becoming deceived and drifting away from the faith. As their love grows cold, they lose what identifies them as a follower of Christ.

My husband, Peter, says they are rushing the season. I’m not sure who “they” are. The Christmas Cartel, perhaps. The vast conspiracy of premature holiday merrymakers. Whoever they are, Peter does not approve. And he does have a point. There are still life-size skeletons scaling the walls of a huge brick house I walk by every day. The remains of jack-o’-lanterns are still sitting on the stoops -- although the squirrels have eaten off most of their faces, making them much scarier than they were to begin with.

Interesting timing for the jaundiced Jan. 6 select committee of one-sided members to issue former President Donald Trump a subpoena. TV’s Gomer Pyle had a famous, countrified line, “Sur-prise, sur-prise, sur-prise!”

Friday night lights will come to an end for Ennis, eventually.

I remember the day Madeline said to me, “I like watching the squirrels scurrying around in my backyard, looking for acorns or stopping to eat one. I wonder what they’re thinking…” the former teacher said with her perfect diction and uplifting voice, as if she were telling the story to a gaggle of fourth graders gathered around her feet.

Crime stories have a way of being hotter than the headband in a fireman’s helmet, and then become cold cases when the suspects get away.

Mark Warde

The lights were moody and the exhibits were intricate for the featured display on Archimedes. Although I’m a curious person, I would never be classified as an “intellectual.” I knew, however, I was in the presence of intellectuals so I was doing my best to chameleon myself under the heading, “When in Rome, do as the Romans.”