Povey Prattle

  I dreamed about my Dad last night (Aug 20/21).  He died at aged sixty three in 1974,  when I was thirty years of age, It was a funny and comforting dream.  How wonderful (or sad)  it is when the dead visit us. How strange it is that in our dreams we do not hear words, but we understand the conversation. Here he is with my Mum.  I love you Dad. ------------------------------------------------------------- For a number of years in the late 1990's I attended a wonderfully affirming  retreat for gay Christian men at the  KIRKRIDGE  RETREAT center in Bangor, PA. Today (out of the blue) I received a Face Book message from one of the other participants in those retreats.  To be honest I scarcely remember him. But he wrote:  " I miss you at our Kirkridge Men's Retreats. Always liked your jokes and stories. Blessings Brother!" He got me right after all these years! Those who know me most will remember me best by my jokes and my stories. --------------------------------------

  20th August 2020 Looking east  (of course) from Bayfront Park at about 7:00 a.m.

He has a home, but he roams Arlington Park at night. I don't know his name, so I say "good morning cat"  -  to this utterly friendly feline who ambles over to Zion and me, and rubs his body along Z's legs Mother Muscovy Duck keeps watch.    She has four ducklings. The ducklings are here, but you'll need extra sharp vision to see them.  Mama has led them to shallow grassy water where their camo feathers serve them well, hiding them from would be predators. (Another mother duck hatched four about ten weeks ago, three have "disappeared".) I am at my desk.  Z, alongside me but on his back, insists that I should hold his paw.  Hard to type one handed.  Even harder to take this photo, holding the 'phone in my right hand alone,

  Leafs at Arlington Park, Sarasota, FL The work of insects,  or natural rot as summer begins to shut down? Whichever.  It's lovely!

Pause for a moment and listen to the weeping in Sarasota County, FL. It is the weeping of trees pulled up from their roots by behemoth claws. It is the weeping of the invertebrates which nestled in the roots. It is the weeping of the fungi;  those wonderful underground messengerS. It is the weeping of the birds whose homes and nests have been destroyed (eviction without compensation). It is the weeping of the small mammals or marsupials  which made the tree their home. AND ALL FOR THIS. They call it development .  I call it destruction. So called "development" on Fruitville Rd., just east of Interstate 75

  The remote car door opener  (which also holds the ignition key)  got  separated from the wee bit of metal which holds a key ring for my house key.  I repaired it once with super glue, but the separation happened again; this time not repairable because a tiny bit of plastic broke off.  Nice, but not essential, to have car and house key on one gizmo. Replacement cost?  $189 plus tax. $189 for a component which surely can be manufactured for less than $25.  That's what happens when there is no competition and it is a seller's market.