Povey Prattle

Willa Cather (1876 – 1947) is surely one of the greatest American novelists.   Earlier in the year I read her “Death Comes to the Archbishop”, and I have just read her exquisite “My Antonia”.   The book is set in the prairies of Nebraska from 1884 onwards.   Cather had moved there from Virginia at aged eight.   Her work is semi-autobiographical. She weaves her tale in the voice of a nameless person, a friend of the fictional Jim Burden about whose life the story is told. “Jim” himself moves from Virginia to Nebraska to live with his grandparents.   He arrives by train to the settlement of Black Hawk.   Also on that train is the Shirmerda family, non-English speaking immigrants from Bohemia.     The novel is a wondrous tale of life in “un-developed” Nebraska, and of the intersection of Jim’s life with the oldest Shimerda daughter “Antonia” (pronounced “ant-o-nee-a” with the “ant as in the name “Anthony”.)   Cather brings to life both the ...

No major blog entry today.   (I am working on a sermon for September 5th that will not work!)

“Look at the soldiers dancing in the rain”:   that’s a memory of my mother’s words, when she and I looked out of the front room window at the splattering of raindrops on Devon Road in Bristol, U.K. That memory triggered others from my youngest brother Martyn. Martyn remembers when our Dad decided that it was bedtime for the younger ones.   Dad would say “up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire”.   Then as they got into bed (often four to a bed) Dad would pronounce “beaks under wings and heads under blankets”.   I smile as I read Martyn’s memories.   I love the imagery of sleep as “beaks under wings” ! I cannot remember ever hearing those words such as those.   What I remember is that Dad or Mum would say “time for Sleep Street” before ushering me off to bed. I merge the two sayings into “Sleep Street in Bedfordshire” , and that sounds like a very desirable address! Martyn and I surely remember another parental saying: “down the little red lane” .   Mum ...

Adelaide came home on Monday afternoon, after three days at the Veterinarian’s Clinic.   The news is good!   I’ll get to that soon. But first you must hear about the responses to the return of the wanderer by senior cat Ada, and Penne the dog. Ada reacted as if she had never before encountered Adelaide.   She kept “batting” at Adelaide with her right paw as an old cat might do to a new cat.   In due course the cats rubbed up against each other, and peace prevailed. Penne was entirely confused. It was as if she could not remember that she shares my home with two felines.   She seemed to be confused.   First she would look at Ada, and then at Adelaide.   She repeated this for about ten minutes.   She gave Adelaide a sniff test, from nose to tail.   Then she relaxed!   I had a long conversation with the Veterinarian this afternoon .   He assured me that the analysis of Adelaide’s urine showed no anomalies.   His best guess is ...