New Years Eve One Liners

1. I’ll remember 2016 like it was yesterday

2. A New Year’s resolution is something that goes in one year and out the other.

3. My wife still hasn’t told me what my New Year’s resolutions are.

4. I was going to quit all my bad habits for the new year, but then I remembered that nobody likes a quitter.

5. An optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves.

6. On New Years, just remember: if your cup runneth over, you’ve probably reached your limit.

7. My new year’s resolution is to get better at pretending to know the words to Auld Lang Syne.
8. I love when they drop the ball in Times Square. It’s a nice reminder of what I did all year.

9. If you make a New Year’s resolution to eat a healthy diet, and you keep it, you won’t actually live longer, but it will seem longer.

10. Deer readers, my gnu years resolution is to tell you a gazelleon times how much I caribou you! Sorry. Bad puns. Alpaca bag and leave.

Cats’ Favorite Christmas Songs

1. Up on the Mousetop

2. Joy to the Curled

3. I Saw Mommy Hiss at Santa Claus

4. The First Meow

5. Silent Mice

Indentured Pies

Granny Adams made such beautiful pies. One day I asked her, “How do you get such beautiful pies with the crimps around the edge so even?”

“Well, it’s a family secret,” she said. “But if you promise not to tell, I’ll let you in on it.”

“Okay,” I said. “Tell me!”

“Well, first, I roll out the dough, making sure it is flat and even. Then I cut out the bottom layer and carefully put in the pie plate and make sure it is firmly against the sides of the plate.

“Then I slowly pour in the filling, making sure it’s not too full.

“Next, I cut out the top layer and carefully put it over the filling.

“Finally, I take out my teeth and just run them around the edge of the pie crust, and they make the nicest even impressions you ever did see!

Q: Why should bowling alleys be quiet?

A: So you can hear a pin drop!

A Cheap Gift

After being away on business for a week before Christmas, Tom thought it would be nice to bring his wife a little gift.

“How about some perfume?” he asked the cosmetics clerk. She showed him a bottle costing $50.

“That’s a bit much,” said Tom, so she returned with a smaller bottle for $30.

“That’s still quite a bit,” Tom groused.

Growing disgusted, the clerk brought out a tiny $15 bottle.

Tom grew agitated, “What I mean,” he said, “is I’d like to see something real cheap.”

So the clerk handed him a mirror.

Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o’ lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne!
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu’d the gowans fine,
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary foot
Sin’ auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidl’t in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin’ auld lang syne.
And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie’s a hand o’ thine,
And we’ll tak a right guid willie-waught
For auld lang syne!
And surely ye’ll be your pint’ stoup,
And surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne!

Times Gone By English Translation
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And days of long ago!
For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.
We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the daisies fine,
But we have wandered many a weary foot
For times gone by.
We two have paddled (waded) in the stream
From noon until dinner time,
But seas between us broad have roared
Since times gone by.
And there is a hand, my trusty friend,
And give us a hand of yours,
And we will take a goodwill drink (of ale)
For times gone by!
And surely you will pay for your pint,
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by!

Don’t Cling to The Firewood: 2017 Will Bring “Change”

They’re just a young couple, I can tell. These mouseholders who have taken up residence in the woodpile are just starting out in life. They’ve built a nest under the pile of oak firewood I am loading into the back of our station wagon.
We had our first frost a few days ago, and had spent several days winterizing our house. So had this mouse couple. At the bottom of the woodpile their nest would be dry and warm in all but the wettest of storms, ready for the young ones that would surely be coming soon.
I think of my wife and me in our first apartment 32 years ago. So excited, so optimistic.
These are tiny mice, equipped with miniature jumping legs, their little bodies only 2-1/2 inches long — if you don’t count the tail. I must seem like a huge giant as I deconstruct their carefully built lives, one log at a time.
I feel sorry for them. Such cute little creatures, so hopeful for the future, yet so filled with terror at what is happening to them.
“What’s going on, dear?” the mouse bride cries.
“I don’t know,” her husband answers. “Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
He’s wrong, of course. Change happens — constantly. But, thankfully, it’s not too often that our entire lives are altered forever by external events.
A few weeks after my bride and I had moved into our first apartment, I received a draft notice: “Greetings from the President of the United States.” Yes, greetings to you, too, Mr. President. Our carefully constructed lives suddenly took a sharp turn.
You’ve had some of those turns, too.
The death of someone very close to you.
Loss of a job.
Failure of a business.
An illness or injury.
Suddenly, life is not the same and never will be again. Everything’s different. And we try to cope — sometimes in healthy ways, sometimes in self-destructive ways.
I keep loading the firewood into the back of the wagon. I’m about to stack it higher yet when I see one of the tiny mice clinging to a piece of firewood in the back of the car. Another few seconds and he would have been crushed. I pick him up by his long tail, set him on the ground, and go back to get more logs. When I return he is still at the same place on the ground where I put him — stunned by these events, barely able to get out of harm’s way.
We’re so mouse-like sometimes.
Henry Blackaby quotes the world as saying “don’t stand there do something, God says don’t do something stand there.”
Life goes on. The props change, sometimes all too often. We’re so tempted to cling to the props as they are being dragged off the set. And sometimes we’re hurt because of our inability to let go, so attached to the accouterments of the past that it’s impossible for us to welcome the future.
Change requires courage, great helpings of it. My mind goes to Joshua in the Bible. For nearly forty years he has been an understudy to the great leader Moses. Now Moses is dead and leadership is thrust fully upon Joshua. Ahead is the Jordan River running at flood stage, and beyond that the fortified cities of Canaan — the “Promised Land” that seems so elusive. Talk about change? Joshua has change swirling all around him.
And God speaks to him a word: “Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).
Our mouse couple looks up as their world is trembling. One by one the logs that comprise their shelter are disappearing, and soon only open sky is above. What do you do?
Do you cling to the firewood and risked being crushed by it? Or do you cling to God’s promise to you?
God has promised to be with you wherever you go. He has promised never to leave you or forsake you. What he asks of you is faith to overcome your terror. Courage to meet your discouragement. And confidence to draw on his strength.
Change is a constant. No part of our lives will endure unchanged for more than a few years, a few decades at most. But the LORD our God is unchangeable. He is forever. You can put down your roots into him, knowing that in this way you will never be utterly uprooted again.
I think of Mr. and Mrs. Mouse. My heart goes out to them. I’ve been where they are, and so have you. And I hope that, even as I am writing these words, they are dragging their nest into another shelter in the woods to keep them dry and warm this winter. I hope that Mr. Mouse has finally got over his shock and got with the program. Older now, and wiser they are.
And if I could offer just one word of advice for them and for you — and for me — it would be this: Don’t cling to the firewood.