Povey Prattle

I’ve been thinking during the past three weeks that a cat might be good company. So I took myself to the Humane Society yesterday, and looked at many, many cats, all up for adoption. I knew that I did not want a kitten, and that my future cat should be short-haired. “Marguerite” took my eye. She came right to the front of her cage, and allowed me to tickle her face. We went to the play room, and she allowed me to caress her, without protest. Joyce was the volunteer who was with me. She told me that this week the Humane Society was offering cats “two for the price of one”. I rose to the bait, so Joyce left the play room to fetch “Bubba”, “Marguerite’s” room mate. “Bubba” could not be enticed of his shelf. He was shy/nervous beyond all belief. So I went into “Bubba’s” cage, and he allowed me to pet him without protest. So I decided to adopt both cats. The price for cats at the Humane Society is $55, so I thought that I’d be getting two for $55. But lo and behold, there was a $50...

by Scott Cairns Your petitions—though they continue to bear just the one signature—have been duly recorded. Your anxieties—despite their constant, relatively narrow scope and inadvertent entertainment value—nonetheless serve to bring your person vividly to mind. Your repentance—all but obscured beneath a burgeoning, yellow fog of frankly more conspicuous resentment—is sufficient. Your intermittent concern for the sick, the suffering, the needy poor is sometimes recognizable to me, if not to them. Your angers, your zeal, your lipsmackingly righteous indignation toward the many whose habits and sympathies offend you— these must burn away before you’ll apprehend how near I am, with what fervor I adore precisely these, the several who rouse your passions. Scott Cairns, “Possible Answers to Prayer” from Philokalia: New and Selected Poems. Copyright © 2002 by Scott Cairns

I thought that “every one feels this way”, until a few years ago, after twenty four hours of intensive testing, a psychiatrist and a psychologist told me that I was clinically and chronically depressed. Certainly my life has been filled with periods of deep darkness and overwhelming sadness. They come and they go. It’s been like that for about a month now, though I felt the approach of this darkness as early as last December. The darkness does not come alone. With it come additional unwelcome guests. A feeling that one’s life amounts to nothing A belief that previous achievements and accomplishments have been worthless A constant mental rehearsal of all one’s previous failures A sense that one is a fraud A desire to be alone, as “people are no damn good”, they’ll always let you down A struggle to accomplish normal activities An increased need/desire for sleep A desire to go to sleep, and never wake up Wanting to weep, but being unable to do so. I’ve tried various antidot...

… of course you knew. In the Western Calendar it is April 23rd 2008. It’s also the (reputed) birthday of Wm. Shakespeare. AND St. George’s Day. St. George, a dubious Saint indeed, is the “Patron Saint” of England, and many other places. His “cross” is the flag of England (not the same as the Union Flag of the United Kingdom, which includes the English cross of St. George) See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_George#England When I was a kid, the flag of St. George might be flown from the towers of Church of England Parishes on April 23rd. These days it has become a symbol of a resurgent English nationalism. And the flag was hoisted over 10 Downing Street this year. I am not a great fan of flags, nor of various nationalisms. But I was happy to be in Greece on St. George’s Day in 1999. The tour group which I’d joined was at Delphi, that wondrous and mysterious place which had me longing for the old gods (much more exciting than the Christian G-d!!!”) Our tour guide mentioned that a ...

I soon discovered at Fairfield that I was not good at many things. I was a weedy little kid (aged 11), and P.E. (physical exercise) was clearly not my thing. And the weekly out door sports led to more misery. We would be ‘bused across town to the school playing field at Combe Dingle. There we would change in old Nissen (Quonset) huts, one for the girls, one for the boys. In the autumn we played football (soccer), or rugby. In the spring it was track and field. In the summer, cricket was offered. But I could not (and still cannot) kick a ball, hit a ball, throw a ball or catch a ball with any modicum of skill. Cricket terrified me. I tried for Rugby - a foolish choice for me. So in the autumn I kicked a soccer ball around with the dozen or so other klutzes, not really playing football. I was dismal at track and field, and feared cricket, so in the spring and summer was set at running laps around the field. A huge sign hung over my head, and that of my fellow nerds. It read...

J. is a certifiable “con”. He wanted to jump ahead of the shower list at Res. House today, as, according to him, he had not showered in 5 days, and had a Court appointment at Noon. I pushed him ahead of 20 others, at 11:00 a.m. He showered. At 11:55 a.m. he was still in the building. That pissed me off. That pissed me off. He had taken advantage of me. So I (verbally) “kicked his ass”. That seemed to amuse him, for he knew that he had “won”. He’ll not con me again! Am I too tough? J. J-B asked me to lend him some money, pending a cheque from his mother. I did so. Not a huge sum, but enough for a month’s groceries. He promised to meet me last Saturday at Noon to repay me. He did not show. We “re-negotiated” so that I would meet him at his Venice apartment after the 8:00 a.m. service in Englewood last Sunday. Of course he was not at home that morning. So I took his unlocked bicycle as an earnest He called me in a panic and said that he would meet me at the ‘bus stat...

A lazy blog tonight! ( I am weary today after trying to chase down a Res. House guest, who owes me money. I am the fool for making the loan in the first place!). But please check out two of my favourite “religious” blogs. One is http://www.reallivepreacher.com/ Read the article “If Only”, even if you are not a believer. The other is from one of my fav. Priests, Elizabeth Kaeton. Her blog, “Telling Secrets” is always worth a read. http://telling-secrets.blogspot.com/ jmp