Upon leaving the garage and cycling up the ramp early this morning it required no accommodation of the fresh air. It was like having one’s face stroked with rose petals, soothing and fragrant to a fault! This pleasing start to the day’s constitutional bode well for what followed. Along the route (“la Route Précise” as we jokingly call it) I passed a tiny field of crocuses rearing their purple heads through the leafy bed into the sunshine. It said all there was to be said about springtime. Seeing it inspired me to notice the burgeoning leaves on the trees as well. Spring had arrived!

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As a former practicing lawyer – and one who distinguished himself both in study and practice in constitutional law – I am shamefully unable exactly to define the role of royalty in all matters Canadian. Nonetheless the words ringing in my ears are, “Her Majesty by and with the advice and consent of the Legislative Assembly of the Province of Ontario, enacts as follows“. A clarified reading of that stock preamble to every statute law of Ontario might be, “The Queen, based upon the elected representatives of the people, enacts as follows“. The Statute of Westminster put the matter to rest. Essentially it turned everything about, shifting the power of the Queen back to the representatives of the people.

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Burnt toast, not unlike many things, is best when eaten freshly made – right out of the toaster. The preference for burnt toast attracts only few, in my experience usually the minority in number. It is an oddity frequently associated with those who have other peculiarities – or, should I say, differences. Pointedly the burnt element of the toast does not imply an excessive behaviour.  The goal is not to exceed the gentle browning alternative.  That is, it isn’t so much a cosmetic thing as a factor of taste and health.  From some reports the putatively carcinogenic nature of the burnt toast (charcoal) absorbs toxins helping to relieve an upset stomach. While some blend the flavour of burnt toast with butter, jam, honey or peanut butter, others specifically cherish the toasted flavour.

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Sometimes things just go right! I’m having one of those boundless sunny mornings where seemingly nothing can go wrong.  I removed myself from the virginal lair without a struggle – at least none surpassing the groaning gymnastic that represents my twisted departure from the high mattress to rest my aching neuropathic feet upon the precious Persian below. The bicycle ride – though as much as I could willingly tolerate this fine morning – was accomplished in good order well before 9:30 am. Perhaps afterwards it was the restoring ablutions; or maybe the divine quality of the baguette bagel with the Champfleury ripened cheese!  Or that my pants fit.  All told it’s a booms-a-daisy mood I’m in, pleased I know not why, spirited by an unqualified gusto for life.

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It speaks to my supreme indolence that after a day of moderate industry I am thoroughly knackered. Indeed this morning’s “scheduled” meeting by Zoom with an ancient friend had me before the connection behaving as though I were in a business environment, watching the clock tick until the moment of lift-off! Naturally there were no external restraints once we got chatting; but I am uncertain that I would initiate a Zoom meeting again other than for business. I find FaceTime or similar options more organic, less commingled with worldly preparation and planning; still having the overriding flavour of spontaneity so welcome in calls between friends.

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I am scheduled to chat through Zoom tomorrow with an ancient friend named Max. It is the first meeting in a long time that I’ve been scheduled to attend. There is rather an air of formality to it. My friend is from Toronto. We were classmates in 1963 and have hung together sporadically since then.  As I motored about Renfrew County this breezy and brilliantly sunny afternoon, windows open, landau roof propelled back, feeling the heat of the sun and absorbing the mechanical precision of the Ford Motor Company beneath my anodized carcass, I pondered what might usefully and perhaps even objectively be put on the table so to speak for discussion tomorrow. I mean to say, what exactly does one talk about with an old friend? Is it possible to sustain meaningful relationship after such long periods of absence?  Or do we never change? Is it possible to read too much into a willy-nilly rendezvous? Or should one approach the matter with reverence, casting one’s mind humbly upon the inevitability that will one day follow and separate us forever?  Or do old school friends just bounce back to the youthful texture of years ago?

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The COVID pandemic and its incremental variations have not disappeared and there is now popular speculation that we’re in for a long haul.  The anxious possibility of a relentless plague is also percolating. All this means that staying at home and living exclusively within Canada is something to be revitalized in the short run.

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Our Sunday adventure today – in lieu of hunting for Easter eggs – was a drive to Barry’s Bay “a community in the township of Madawaska Valley located two hours west of Ottawa on the shores of Kamaniskeg Lake, with a 2016 population of approximately 1,300 people“. The jaunt was a 2-hour ride each way.  The purpose was to familiarize ourselves with the Canadian Legion at which I am to receive my COVID vaccination on April 14th next. The outing was the first we’ve had of this duration in months so we welcomed the occasion. Until today the pandemic had succeeded to narrow our focus imperceptibly. It helped naturally that the sky was blue and that the temperature had risen to a very tolerable 13°C sufficient to enable us to open all the windows and the landau roof.

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Many of us have had uncertain events or progressions in our lives requiring no small amount of accommodation.  Regrettably some of the episodes have bordered upon catastrophic in nature involving for example serious medical complications or death in the family. Whatever the particular incident, the consequence is always having to live with it. Remarkably it is frequently those who have suffered the most dreadful reverberations who ultimately set an example to the rest of us just how to adjust to reality; while those enduring far less aftermath seemingly wallow in despair, self-pity and utter immobility.  From the perspective however of each one of us, our own repercussion is paramount and seldom do we consider the popular view of our adjustment or interpretation of the initial assault. Reality is in that respect irreverent, insipid and irrespective.

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Funny how things unfold. Serendipity never fails to astound me. While driving about the countryside this afternoon on this unsurpassably brilliant day I overheard a BBC program about quantum computing, the business of combining the customarily separate binary themes such as one and zero to afford greater capacity and exponential performance.

Quantum computing is poised to upend entire industries from finance to cybersecurity to healthcare, and beyond—but few understand how quantum computers actually work.

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