Only in the Grove. . .

I went walking in the South Grove with my friend Ruth this morning.  Now I've seen it all.  The south end of the Grove is the oldest area and strictly residential. Most of the homes have been here since the 20's and they range from modest to mansions, but they are all "very Grove".  You have to live in this area to understand the true meaning of that expression.

I'm used to seeing people out walking their dogs at 8 in the morning.  That's a given.  I'm also used to seeing gorgeous peacocks strolling around.  Residents have a love/hate relationship with these magnificent creatures who are prone to dirtying up the area. But the lady walking towards us on the road this morning was an oddity even for the Grove.

On her chest was a sort of backpack, call it a frontpack, with its front panel hanging open.  As we approached I could have sworn I saw a bird looking out at me.

Say hello to Pandora.  She's a green parrot. No youngster, around 20 years old, and she loves her morning walk.  In fact, she insists on it, according to the lady who apparently accommodates her feathered friend's every desire.  We stopped to talk, had a chat with Pandora, and then walked on, shaking our heads.

That's what I mean when I say only in the Grove.
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