Povey Prattle

Come June I will have lived in Sarasota FL for eleven years, (I still find it hard to believe that I retired to Florida of all places!) In these almost eleven years I had often read about Arlington Park but had never visited it. Until now. It's a gorgeous oasis in the heart of the City of Sarasota, (but it is owned an maintained by Sarasota County).   (Yes, we have both City and County Government here). The entrance of Ben into my life caused me to seek out and visit Arlington Park.   (Did I tell you that I have adopted a Greyhound named Ben. Maybe I forgot to tell you!!) Tongue in cheek aside,  I have discovered Arlington Park  -  it's a wonderful semi-rural enclave  in the heart of a busy City.   Best of all, it is utterly available to one and all. Arlington Park has a nice half mile walking trail.  Our Bayfront Park has the same, but Arlington has super shady areas, just the place to walk with my dog on hot summer days. The pond, with Turtles soaking up the sun

It took less than thirty seconds.  I had rinsed a can and decided to take it out to my re-cycling bin which was already curbside on collection day. I neglected to shut the front door before I opened the porch door, and in about the time it takes to say aluminum or aluminum Ben had made a break for it. He paused at the end of the car port..I called his name.  He looked at me, gave me the finger,  and trotted off west. I called him again, He looked again, gave me the finger again, and ;proceeded further west then went into the car port at Bernadette and John's home.    John saw Ben, called him over and petted him (it did not occur to John that it was odd for Ben to be out alone - I understand).  I cried out "grab his collar" but it was too late.  Ben gave me another withering look and went to explore Nancy's car port. Now Nancy's dogs spend a lot of time on her porch, behind a locked screen door. Ben's visit caused them to bark enthusiastically. This a

Image via the "Mirror" Newspaper.  Place not identified  but most likely in Latin America or Spain.  Makes our Palm Sunday processions look very wimpy! Uh Oh, we are getting close to Palm Sunday. Ministers and Priests throughout western Protestant Christendom are frantically ( even obsessively) planning to make sure that the details of the blessing of the Palms and the processions with Palms are just right, and that no one steps out of line. Many of them are looking for an exquisite procession  (whether indoors or outside) in which the Crucifer(s). Acolytes, Choristers, Clerics and other sundry Ministers GLIDE  (not walk!) with perfect synchronicity;  and the congregation sings the (terminally boring) "All Glory Laud and Honour" in perfect time, and with perfect pitch, not missing a beat. My dearly beloved sister and brother Ministers have a insistent inner voice which says  "You must plan  so meticulously that Palm Sunday will be as perfect as a

Dietrich Bonhoeffer Most Tuesday mornings I hang out with a bunch of Clerics; some retired, some still parish ministers, It's much better that you imagine!   In truth it is almost essential for our spiritual health. We take a gander at the Scriptures for the following Sunday and to share thoughts as to "how to preach it". Sometimes we get to be very silly.  Oft-times we are gently serious. It's a group in which grand-standing and/or professional rivalry are notoriously absent. Next Sunday is Palm Sunday.  We ignored the Palm Sunday lesson, the First lesson and the Passion Gospel. Instead we focused on the Epistle, Philippians 2:1-11.  Who would not, with that marvelous and poetic early Christian statement of faith contained in verses 6-11? Philippians 2:1-11 NRSV 2 If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy,  2 make my joy complete: be of the same min

I once asked my Mum why Welsh people were unpopular in Bristol, U.K.  She told me that it was because in the Depression many Welsh people immigrated to Bristol, and took the best jobs. Mind you, Wales was about thirty miles away, and the Welsh were also subjects of the United Kingdom. It's the same dreary story throughout the world. "Immigrants"  (yes all of them!)  are dirty, lazy, unwilling to work and eager for government handouts. Although they are lazy, they take the jobs which rightly belong to citizens. Name any country throughout the world which has received immigrants (documented or undocumented) and in that country you will hear the same old saw. Thus it has been in the United States for Italians, for Irish, for Catholics, for Jews,  ever since the mass migration from Europe to America began.  The same vile things were said about them as are now being said about political and economic refugees who come here seeking for some kind of opportunity and freedo

I tried to find a collective noun for greyhounds. All I could find was the distinctly dull and unimaginative  "Leash of Greyhounds". Oh come on, we can do better than that!     I was at Pet Smart on the South Trail last Saturday for a Racing Dog Rescue Project "Meet and Greet" event. I was there, Ben was there, about eight other Greyhounds were there.  The beasts were so happy to see each other. It was a "Gregarity of Greyhounds".