The dry, numb pain in my lower extremities is draining.  It is a dull repetition, an interminable obstruction, insignificant on the whole but perpetual. It is too soon to take another round of analgesics following my 4:00 am contribution to the cause. I have nonetheless thankfully succeeded to remove myself from the lair and to complete my morning ablutions, the sanctity of my routine. Meanwhile the full round sounds of a bass violin churns behind the staccato unison of a piano and a violin (Maran Mozetich: Joy and Sorrow).  I blankly stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows upon the lush meadow approaching the flat, unperturbed blue water of the Mississippi River as it wends its way peacefully downriver from the Village of Appleton toward Scotch Corners and McCullough’s Landing on the basin of Mississippi Lake below.

My red Evo Latitude tricycle is parked conspicuously though strategically in a cranny of the basement parking area. I usurped the space.  So far the singular arrogance has been without apparent confrontation or dispute from any interested party in the building, either residential or management.

Outside the garage, after wheeling my tricycle up the ramp, I encountered our landscaper Jeff. He and I engaged in a brief but enlivening conversation before I commenced my purgative 4 Km cycling pedal along Spring Street.

Not far along Spring Street I passed a woman walking on the sidewalk.  When I gave a cherry hello she responded enthusiastically.  Catherine Sykes (who lives at 216 Spring Street) is about 86 years old. She and I took up a bubbling conversation together. Not surprisingly it turns out she is the mother of Julie McGrath (for whom, and her husband Ron, I had once acted professionally). Ron and I shared this information together when I subsequently telephoned him to see about getting an email address to which to send the photo I had taken of Ms. Sykes.

Back underground in the garage of our apartment building I was preparing to store my tricycle while gossiping with Al Purdy (also about 86 years of age). He had a vast amount of current and local knowledge. Jared Laginski of Inverness Homes materialized and assisted me to station my tricycle. Only moments earlier Jared and I had connected outside the building to chat about the demographics affecting Almonte and thus insinuating the community as a whole.

But the highlight of the day was a visit from my erstwhile (and first) legal assistant Ms. Jennifer Thomson who lives on the other side of town on Jamieson Street (nearby where we were previously resident).  For years we had been neighbours when we lived on Laura Crescent. Today we gathered as much information as possible about Jennifer’s children, Cathy and Kenny, both of whom live nearby and, from all that I can understand, are a credit to themselves and their mother. As for ourselves, Jennifer, Denis and I shared an uncommonly blunt conversation about the reputed advantage of THC/CBD to control sleep deprivation and the suggestively related frequency of having to void one’s bladder, a medical issue which arose initially in conjunction with an occasional balancing issue.