“I’m a poet and don’t know it,” Professor Plum said as he entered the mail room.

He read the mail…. (More)

“Your don’t even show it,” Ms. Scarlet said with a wink. “They’re not long fellows.”

This time Professor Plum and Ms. Scarlet did not leave to join the resident faculty in the wine cellar library, to spend the weekend drinking thinking on our motto of Magis vinum, magis verum (“More wine, more truth”). Instead the resident faculty joined the staff in the mail room. Yes it was cramped, but the aura of delighted anticipation – and the tinkling of eggnog cups in the punch bowl – made the room feel cozy.

For the record, “cozy” is what realtors say when they mean “cramped.”

There was no staff poker game, so everyone found seats or floors – or limbs in the tree, for the Squirrel and his family – as your lowly mail room clerk peeked at the week’s correspondence….

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Dear Ms. Crissie,

I wrote a BPI version of the famous “Night Before Christmas.” Would you read it to everyone?

Waving from the Tree in Blogistan

Dear Squirrel,

Of course. Just a sip of water to refresh our throat, and….

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T’was the day before Christmas at BPI Campus,
The presents were all wrapped in grass from the pampas.
Of course they weren’t really. That’d be quite absurd.
But nothing else wanted to rhyme with that word.
 
Ms. Crissie and Scarlet adjusted the star
That all but the Squirrel thought looked fine from afar.
And no they weren’t really. They’d done it before.
But the Grafix Department had naught else in store.
 
Those buildings outside, they’re not really there.
They’re only a backdrop that sits in the air.
If 3-D worlds had air and backdrops that sit.
Okay that’s enough introductory sh—
 
“Shh,” Mrs. Squirrel said, “you don’t want to curse.”
“But the news,” I replied, “it just keeps getting worse.”
She patted my tail and brushed out a flake.
“That’s why, dearest Regis, you’re taking a break.
 
“Let’s think about Christmas and happier times.”
“Pregnant women on donkeys, or humorous rhymes?”
She giggled and gave me a sunflower seed.
“Have a snack, my beloved, it’s just what you need.”
 
I nibbled the tip off the little black shell,
Wond’ring if our whole nation was going to h—
“Ho-ho-ho!” Mrs. Squirrel said, “you’re spoiling the mood.
“This isn’t a day to sit there and brood.”
 
“I’m not reading news but I hear it in passing,
“The endless refrain of the God-King’s jack-assing.
“I try to ignore it and think of the season,
“But it’s harder this year and we all know the reason.”
 
Then Regis IV climbed up with Regis the V,
My grandson is growing and something to see.
Liz and Kamala, they snuggled in too.
Amazing what cute baby squirrels can do.
 
We wondered if Santa might come on a whim. He
Might find it harder without any chimney.
“That won’t be a problem. He’ll come in the door,”
Declared the e’er-cheerful Regis the IV.
 
“And then down the hall,” said the twins, ‘Chelle and Nancy,
“He’ll look at our tree, all decked out so fancy,
“He’ll peer at our drey in behind all these lights,
“His eyes all aglow on this kindest of nights.”
 
“I brought you some gifts,” he’ll say, “all just the same. Yes,
“You all get these packets of roast macadamias.”
I looked at the twins, my head in my paw,
“You rhymed on that word? I’m truly in awe.”
 
“It’s the small things,” said Mrs. Squirrel, “they have to matter,
“When the guy in the Outhouse is mad as a hatter.
“The times with your family and people you know,
“They help pick you up when you start to feel low.”
 
“Like Chef and her delicious nut recipes,
“And the Janitor-slash-Prof of Astrology.
“It’s Ms. Scarlet and her dear Professor Plum,
“Her smile and his jokes, they ward off the glum.”
 
“And never forget our lowly mail clerk,
“Who isn’t so lowly; she does most of the work.”
Mrs. Squirrel paused to pick up my precious Blewberry,
“And there’s plenty more reasons for you to feel merry.”
 
“It’s not just the staff and the resident leaders.
“There’s also our bevy of wonderful readers,
“Who chat about weather and their daily lives.
“Their sharing is why this campus still thrives.”
 
I nodded and smoothed out a snag in my tail,
Considering what they’d all said, and the mail.
So when you were out, I decided to hide it.
There’s news, sure, but really we cannot abide it.
 
Instead, I switched in my very own letter,
A holiday ode, so we all can feel better.
So while Chef’s busy making our next breakfast treat:
Merry Christmas to all, and Bon appétit!

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Dear Ms. Crissie,

I hope you don’t mind that I hid the mail. Also, what treat is Chef making this morning?

Still Waving from the Tree in Blogistan

Dear Squirrel,

We don’t mind at all. Quite the contrary. We thank you – and your family – for that lovely gift!

Chef is making a Christmas Breakfast Sausage Casserole. You can find the recipe below, and we’ll echo your closing beat:

Merry Christmas to all, and Bon appétit!

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Image Credit: Crissie Brown (BPICampus.com)

Christmas Breakfast Sausage Casserole.

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Happy Sunday!