The New Warden & The New Squatter
14 September 2006
Today a new churchwarden was chosen to replace Mrs. Bennings. Mr. Johnson, an American, who moved over here about twenty years ago, was nominated. He moved over so his daughter, who married an Englishman, could take better care of him. He's rather fiesty and loves strong drink and makes something called moonshine. (I cannot see how anyone can stomach it.) Mr. Johnson also loves anything from Arkansas (and the southern United States in general). He even has one of those old confederate flags hanging in his flat and a small sticker of one on his number plate! For some reason unknown to me, he is always reminding me that General Robert E. Lee was an Episcopalian. For someone in his late seventies, he has the spirit of a man in his forties who is about to go to war. I get the feeling that Mr. Johnson would go to war with anyone from the northern United States, the Russians, and low-churchmen. It's for the last reason that I think Mr. Johnson will make a fine churchwarden!
In other news, yesterday I was sitting outside on the porch, smoking my pipe and reading about the saint of the day in the Breviary like I normally do, and just as I was about to take a sip of my Plymouth, the glass got pushed up into my face spilling gin all over my cassock. I looked down to see a St. Bernard puppy attempting to make another jump up my leg into my face! Now this quickly became a near occasion of sin, for I was tempted to say ungodly sort of words. Right before something dirty was about to come out, I saw Mrs. Bennings walk up. She said that this puppy was her gift to me for being her favourite vicar. I replied, "Favourite? Why, I am the only vicar in this town, expect for "Mr." Winston." (Fr. Winston is the evangelical vicar who openly denies the sacerdotal priesthood). She laughed and said that the puppy was given to her by her nephew in London, who moved to a flat where pets were not allowed. Mrs. Bennings will be moving in with her nephew soon and so could no longer keep him. She said the she couldn't come up with a suitable name, so now not only do I have the responsibility of keeping and raising him, I have to give him a name too. He is quite smart, but a rather destructive little bugger.
Here is the photo I took of him yesterday after I calmed him down by giving him a little gin mixed with fruit juice. It calms the nerves.
Oh what shall I call him?
Okay, that is all for today. I just heard a crash in the sacristy.
posted by the Vicar @ 5:03 PM,
3 Comments:
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At 9:47 PM,
Chris Coucheron-Aamot said...
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I, unfortunately, cannot speak to the piety of the subject of this photo, but he's an Episcopalian bishop, in gaiters and cassock-apron, with a nice bernard-looking dog at his side:
http://www.cathedralofallsaints.org/images/img_history/bishop_doane_big.jpg
So, you might not be in good theological company, but at least this proves that St Bernard owners have style. -
At 9:48 PM,
Chris Coucheron-Aamot said...
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At 7:33 AM,
Jeff said...
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How about Tunstall--that seems like a perfect name for a St. Bernard.
