Shamefully I have come to acknowledge (admittedly by my own tribulation) another of life’s passports or identification credentials; namely, recovery. Upon the most blasé assessment it is readily and at times as squeamishly apparent that a number of people whom I know as friends have suffered and continue to endure what as speedily qualifies as outstanding recovery from an unprovoked or unanticipated incident or from an existing and hitherto prolonged condition. These atmospheric elaborations of psyche and physical states are nonetheless of such treacherous detail that their avoidance is by consequence a peril to their publicity.  These calamities are not subjects about which we enthusiastically conflate. Some for example involve critical accidents; others hazardous cancerous malignancy or seeimingly irreversible addiction; others are putatively confined to materialistic corruption or erosion; but in each instance, the friend has unequivocally confronted a life-altering obstruction (including one instance of self-induced and professionally authorized suicide).

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Travel (whether an excursion, voyage, expedition, backpack, roam or cruise) has forever been a nutritious and inspiring element of society. In the summertime in the northern hemisphere – when the possibility of prolonged locomotion is both realistic and preferred  – the attraction is especially beguiling. Whether it is the wintertime blues or the mere delight of adventure which promotes this instability and insatiability I do not know. There are so many provocative varieties of travel; viz., a weekend outing, a jaunt to the other side of the world (such as to the South Pacific Ocean), an investigative enterprise (usually with a hidden objective for unparalleled discovery) or an aimless sailing trip. Whatever the objective it can be assured that the protagonist (that is, the champion adventurer) has a kit of credentials upon the basis of which he or she proposes to unfold the desirability of the circumnavigation.

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Listening to the daily news can unwittingly become a disheartening project.  This I find to be an especial peril when failing to analyze the logic (or, what often proves to be the lack of it) associated with the despatch, scandal or scoop. At times the headlines can impose a sudden and quite unanticipated damper upon one’s spirit. Nor is there any assurance that any one of us, for whatever reason, is above or beneath the daunt and dismay. As my late father so regularly adjured in the interest of irrepressible clarity, it assists the calculation of the deductive element to have not only the general law from which to draw particular inference but the added benefit of prediction and estimation based upon those pre-existing details, the paramountcy of which normally paints a broad empirical scope on its already enlarged canvass. Maintaining a singular image within such a vastly abstract vision is both unlikely and infrequent; that is, from a remote outlook the commonality is the regular stroke. We’re very much alike no matter what the alleged differences or difficulties.

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Undeniably it soothes the languid persuasion of sustained contemplation and meditation that today is Sunday, a day traditionally devoted to what might more aptly be called the private adherences of the week, including for example select (perhaps sacerdotal) music and literature (such as Jane Austen). I am foremost engaged in the opening act of breakfast, a superior event which to me is as common and repetitive as matins and vespers once were. Curiously my selection of breakfast and Sunday morning domesticity has altered over time (but only the nature not the substance). The paramount absorption of my immediate environment – an immersion of both topical and temporal singularity – is the view upriver across the meadow.

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Maintaining as I do an overall idle distraction throughout the day – a civility and mental avidity which I reluctantly confess is wont more often than I care to admit to commence as late as 11:00 am after the appearance of a good night’s rest – it is no enormous deprivation on occasion to encounter a prolonged rainy day. This at least would be the standard accommodation. When however the day about which one opines is more than a mere midsummer’s day but instead Canada’s National Holiday, the hardship is somewhat less dissoluble. Watching the combined effort and effect of the wind and the rain amounts to a dramatic and strategic attack upon the evident nature of the coast-to-coast celebration of higher estimation.

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There is mounting controversy surrounding the authenticity, legitimacy and veracity of any number of assertions on the World Wide Web. Nor should it be entirely surprising that there is a growing dispute regarding many of our more popular social opinions, things like religion, political propriety and what if anything can be done to make America great again.

The World Wide Web (WWW), commonly known as the Web, is an information system enabling information to be shared over the Internet through simplified ways meant to appeal to users beyond IT “specialists” and hobbyists, as well as documents and other web resources to be accessed over the Internet according to specific rules, the Hypertext Transfer Protocol (HTTP).

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Years ago when I began subscribing to Apple Music I hadn’t any practical concept of its algorithms. That was the introduction of Apple Music’s treasury of music available to the public at what then seemed a remarkably digestible price (compared to the cost of purchasing a fresh CD).

Algorithm: late 17th century (denoting the Arabic or decimal notation of numbers): variant (influenced by Greek arithmos ‘number’) of Middle English algorism, via Old French from medieval Latin algorismus. The Arabic source, al-Ḵwārizmī ‘the man of Ḵwārizm’ (now Khiva), was a name given to the 9th-century mathematician Abū Ja‘far Muhammad ibn Mūsa, author of widely translated works on algebra and arithmetic.

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While the remote northern Québec forest fires continue to burn and while the northeast wind continues to blow, it remains a draw whether the morning air is charred or contaminated.  Just how perspicaciously does one regard the view at the dawn of the first morning light?

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Since last November 2nd when we unloaded our domestic possessions at Riverfront Estates, it has been a cycle of change and anticipation as we have sought to complete the establishment our new residential platform.  Granted the alteration from 100 Jamieson Street to 225 Johanna Street was temporarily thwarted by our jaunt to Key Largo for six months. But now we are once again completing the annual cycle. This means finalizing the routine rituals; viz., annual physical checkups, teeth cleanings and check-ups; eye examinations; hearing aid check-ups; and in this instance managing a new left knee replacement.

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I should have known something was off beam when I awoke after 5:00 o’clock this morning without having already taken my usual handful of analgesics. This was a signal to me that I had survived an uncharacteristically long period of both dormancy and abeyance since my last dose. What made it more curious was that, knowing this suspension, I determined nonetheless to hang fire. I would reserve whatever palliative there was for a later moment (an admittedly unusual accommodation and deprivation on my part). Objection to anodyne is not normally something I undertake for any disputed purpose. My incarnation does not derive its strength from long-endured abstraction.

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