May 25, 2024
Almonte, Ontario
Interested to know…
Toss it out, acquit, hang or send him to jail—what does your legal mind say to you, Bill?
I would so love to be in the jury room to hear the debates that will probably go on and teflon Donald likely will slip thru the noose once more but from my monitoring of trial thru transcripts, I would find him guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt but then I wouldn’t get picked as an impartial jury member!
Karen H.
Many are pledged to the golf club upon its advent in the late springtime. Especially so on a glorious day such as today when at four o’clock this morning I recall having seen sunlight already appearing from behind the bedroom roller shades. Today May 25th marks the celebratory opening and clubhouse luncheon. My partner, I and my erstwhile physician chose instead to start the day with breakfast at 8:30 am overlooking the first tee.
Adjoining the common lament that, “You can’t have it all!” is the stabilizing knee-jerk revival that, “I wouldn’t change shoes with anyone!” One’s occasional decline to comparative want is inevitably triumphed by the acknowledgement of comparative completeness. The admission of this incongruity of yearning and fulfillment is what succeeds to project one to seek fulfillment at every turn. It is also a recognition of the unfathomable complexities of achievement. Ofttimes the surge of contemplation is such that it entirely removes the credibility of any restraint upon satisfaction. In short, the direness of life is eclipsed by its wonder.
Our functional vis-à-vis social convention with Alana and Jay at eleven o’clock this morning was favourably concluded though rather more precipitously than we had anticipated. The steep ending was however far from unexpected. They’re busy. Very busy. The simmering urgency and hastiness of our hosts and their houseguest Isaac was evident immediately upon our arrival at their country estate. Apart from me, no one sat down even for a moment during the entire time we were there, suspended in the elaborate new kitchen, hearing of the innumerable things they have yet to do to complete their impending caravan to Nova Scotia three days hence.
We left the apartment this morning around 10:30 am. We had voluntarily ejected ourselves from the premises in anticipation of the arrival of our housekeeper to perform her scheduled endeavour. The ambient temperature was already close to 30°C. All day the uncommonly high temperature lingered. What however made it magical and bearable was the SSW gusts at 42 Km/hr. On the surface at least the air was dry though the mid-afternoon forecast warned of “A Severe Thunderstorm Watch” affecting Eastern Lanark County. As well you might imagine the weather was shifting to more seasonable expectations; and the temperature was thereafter forecast to drop to a high of 25°C tomorrow though happily beneath perfectly clear skies. All in all it has made for an exceptional day and an equally effervescent drive in the country up, down and around the well-maintained roads.
Today in the apartment was “refresh day”, meaning laundry day and purifying the place generally followed by routine grocery shopping at our favourite stores Metro, Farm Boy and Dandelion Foods. Judging by the anxiety evident on the roads as we motored forth, there were many others likewise re-establishing themselves from their weekend holiday status of erstwhile inactivity and indolence. Everywhere there was a palpable bustle and imperativeness. Seemingly opening the cottage is not all work; or at least not unrewarded.
As an unrepentant obsessive personality, I don’t hesitate to proclaim the attainment of perfection. Though I am quick to add that perfection is a sphere peculiar to each individual. This seeming universality and commensurate ambiguity does not however diminish for an instant the scope or achievement of whatever we chose to identify as perfection. It isn’t only flawlessness and sublimity or the best. Perfection is also refinement and improvement or polishing. As an adjective, “perfect” apparently also denotes “a way of binding books in which pages are glued to the spine rather than sewn together”. What however is common to the attribute of perfection in my experience is being faultless as possible; and, more significantly, the sensation that one has achieved that height of refinement.
One cannot imagine what he must have thought as he pushed off from shore in 1492 and headed out to sea. Christopher Columbus was going in a new direction.
Columbus, Christopher (1451–1506), Italian-born Spanish explorer, credited as being the first European to reach the Americas; Columbus persuaded the Spanish monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, to sponsor an expedition to sail across the Atlantic in search of Asia. In 1492 he set sail with three small ships (the Niña, the Pinta, the Santa Maria) and discovered the New World (in fact, various Caribbean islands). He made three further voyages between 1493 and 1504, landing on the South American mainland in 1498 but never making contact with North America.
Yesterday, after having mulled over the moderately disconcerting matter for several days prior, I resolved to get my hair cut. I would go to Sports Clips, Stittsville as soon as they opened at 9:00 am this morning, the start of the long weekend. I had become fed up with myself and decided I needed enhancement before our breakfast reunion with Alana and Jay tomorrow morning at the golf club. I landed in Stittsville in the parking lot outside the hair salon at 8:56 am this morning. The door was locked. I sat on the stone wall awaiting the opening. Then a number of parents materialized with their young sons (apparently there is a gymnasium or something like it nearby). The families went in ahead of me but Destiny (my coiffeuse) must have seen me outside with my stick hobbling about so she engineered her immediate attention to me accordingly (they don’t take appointments, just first-come, first-served). Though I wasn’t in any particular hurry, I had however got it into my head to do something constructive about the current mane peril so I was pleased to pounce upon the enterprise with vengeful gusto.
When it comes to making a summary assessment of life there are unquestionably more enthralling polar alternatives than birth and death (though honestly after 75 years of age the topic becomes tinged, rather like standing by the curb waiting for a cab). Inevitability is not guaranteed inspiring. For the moment – during this blissful start to the Victoria Day Weekend – I have formulated the summary of the beginning and the end as “blossom to seed” which, although not as abruptly capturing the unanticipated wonder of birth and the precipitous dread of death, does afford a more poetic and less dissipative rendering of life. No doubt it speaks to the universality of the subject that I was moved to reflect upon this awesome subject when noticing from my lofty perch overlooking the fields that the glorious yellow dandelions have overnight transitioned to balls of white fluff (which in turn I expect to discover tomorrow have been completely blown away). Nonetheless the compelling feature of seed is its inherent prospect of growth. Or should I say something more elevated such as transcendental? Maybe the no less magical answer is grandchildren.