It is a welcome casualty of old age that whatever transpires is assured to be of moderate interest. There is no need to go searching for things to stimulate oneself. Indeed so assured am I of this account that I dress for the occasion. Appearance, as casual now as it may be, is de rigueur though not so much to be voguish as merely cleaned up and presentable. In this sad condition of physical decline, preserving a routine of wear-and-wash remains an elemental imperative. This includes in the chilly weather sporting a silken scarf about the neck.
In spite of its frightfulness the tortuous state of unemployment, incapacity and decline nonetheless fail to diminish the ineluctable effluxion of time. Passage remains compelling enough to entertain, say just watching the geese floating on the river, or idly wondering about the mansion with the turret, or digesting the rich colours of the meadows and furrowed fields seen over the lip of one’s afternoon chilled coffee, or beyond the top of one’s plate of sliced green apple and 5-year old St. Albert cheddar cheese. But first let us recover the morning that preceded.
In our household I am “Driver”. By utter coincidence there is only one of us in this family who drives. And that is I. And by further subtle twist of fate, I adore driving! I may even have inheirted the withering flavour from my father and grandfather. Driving is further the elucidation of the toy car I got as a child one Christmas. I remember it as though it were this morning. The toy was extremely well-made, from Germany I believe, a firm grey shell with a sturdy white rubber bumper on the nose. The black rubber wheels were well proportioned; the wind-up key was solid. Although the toy car was modelled after a racing car, my adhesion to the toy arose not from its speed but its durability. I have extrapolated that focus to my current automotive favourite (which I think is best described as “old-fogey-comfortable”). I am not however looking for a living room on wheels; rather a relaxing but efficient machine. This means I have abandoned the larger 7-passenger SUVs for the miniaturized versions for 4 or 5 passengers.
It seems no matter where in the area we’re headed (and for the record there are – like a compass – four categorical alternates to leave town) we predominantly prefer drifting along the Appleton Side Road. It is an exceedingly pleasant country road connecting Almonte and Carleton Place. It enables a simple connect to the city where we’re largely headed. I invariably find the ride along both the Appleton Side Road and the 4-lane highway from Carleton Place to the city is utterly soothing. Indeed so taken am I by the oft-repeated pleasure of the drive that it similarly constitutes grounds for an objection I have to Daytona Beach Shores, Longboat Key and Key Largo; namely, there is no Appleton Side Road to quell my anxiety!
But this morning, that was not a peril…instead I had the ineffable fortune to be driving into the rising yellow sunshine in my (relatively clean) substantive “Made in USA” automobile (Kansas City, Kansas should you care to know) along the most bucolic roadway in the universe with my stalwart companion. This almost soporific suggestion was a magnificent way to awaken to the world today. The road is straight and well-maintained. Flying through the sight of distant farm houses and flashes of horses and cows, it is easy to succumb to the seductive nature of the passage. Apple Music enhanced the cabin with relieving sound.
As Driver my attention is naturally upon the wheel and only upon the wheel. Which is my way of excusing what follows. You see, we were on a mission this morning to “Metro Eagleson Road”. This project naturally entails a lot of work up and down the aisles, then getting the stuff to the car for packing – followed of course by unpacking. Anyway, the point is, I don’t do any of that. I just sit in the car. I’m Driver, remember? Glued to the wheel!
Well, actually, I am more likely to be glued to my iPhone, searching, contemplating, maybe even creating. This morning however I don’t recall doing any of that. In fact I don’t think I spent much time on the iPhone period. Instead I found myself captivated by those who went casually by. One for example was a gentleman with thinning grey hair who nonetheless had a pony tail at the back of his head. By whatever skilful choice he managed to drape his ambivalent appearance with the success of looking terribly urbane. He wasn’t the driver. But I didn’t see who was driving. These things happen so quickly!
Then next to me parked a black SUV. A woman descended from the driver’s seat then walked to the trunk to get something. It was at this point in particular that I directed my vision to the woman’s car and saw her looking at me, smiling. I regret to say I reacted unfavourably. I think I was so shocked by seeing the woman smiling that I immediately withdrew and lowered my vision. But it amuses me endlessly how much can materialize in mid-air in any instant; then evaporate as quickly. And there’s always the fun of digesting whatever came into being before distilling into the atmosphere.
We live a colourful life!
And a delectable life. On the way home from the grocery store we debated stopping for a coffee. We decided it would be a good idea. And it was. We parked in front of the Hummingbird Chocolate Factory. Although we each only drank coffee or espresso while there, we left in tow with extremely tantalizing sweets including for my part Nanaimo Bars. They’re still in the original brown cardboard packages awaiting the excitement at the end of the evening meal when the treasures are laid before the unwitting recipient! Truly magical.