Reassessing everything, putting the leaden sculpture of midnight sleeplessness in order. Rearranging the sequence. Rewriting the imperatives. Establishing new boundaries reflecting elemental change, childhood to orphan. Withdrawing so as to permit orbital abstraction, a diminished summary of decades. Percolating pictures of the past, clarity touching mere passing moments which yet purvey brilliant memories. Like a polished vase it contains the inexpressible history of a second of time.
August 17, 2018
Grandad would have been 100 today. He died in 2014 in an awful hospital style bed at a veterans care facility with me and Charlotte by his side. He was a very special man with a unique outlook on the world. He went through WWII including being shot down and spending hours clinging to a dingy in the North sea. Despite that, he was always cheerful but with a “no nonsense” attitude. He once told me there are too many depressed people in the world and also that the “world is in chaos” when he’d watch the news much later in life. He had great integrity and practicality that seems lacking today. Aside from all his Air Force accolades, he was a great Grandparent, teaching us about vegetable gardening (he had a plot of land that is now an underpass in Bells Corners) and we sold pumpkins in our neighborhood every year. He always drove me to riding lessons and shows, always ready to help sweep or carry tack. His speeches around the dinner table during holidays we came to expect are missed. As is his sense of humour and little sayings and sage advice about life. One thing that stuck with me was “not all flowers bloom at the same time” in response to me feeling down about being at a certain place in my life. If you still have your grandparents and are on good terms make sure you sit down with them and listen. They have everything to teach you.
Jennifer C Hladkowicz
Orange Horse Studio
(613) 371-0614
site: www.orangehorsestudio.com
It is testimony to the alacrity and pertinacity of the membership of Mississippi Golf Club that when we arrived there before 9 o’clock this morning, in spite of the parking lot being already filled to capacity, we were the only ones sitting on the flagstone patio awaiting the arrival of our breakfast. Presumably all the others were hard at it on the links. Meanwhile as we nestled in and prepared to put on the nose bag, the view from the patio adjacent the first tee was divine! The greens had just been manicured. The river sparkled in the distance sedately wending its way ’round Glen Isle and through the Village of Appleton.
L. G. William Chapman, B.A., LL.B.
Jamieson Mills
Almonte, ON K0A 1A0
August 16th, 2022
My dearest Fi,
Given the nature of your most recent correspondence, involving as it did grandchildren and sterling silver, I thought it most appropriate to reply in kind; that is, embracing the gravity of familial matters and inheritance.
Allow me first to say that you have – perhaps unwittingly – flattered me exponentially to suggest I have any especial acquaintance with these delicate matters. They are heady subjects with which frankly I have had but little confluence other than professionally as in estate administration generally, representing executors and dealing with banks. Upon reflection however it appears that I am entitled to some authority upon the very subject. When we effected our downsizing about a decade ago we auctioned everything. We dealt with auctioneers in Toronto, Ottawa and Montréal. I recognize that auctioneers do not necessarily address biological and related testamentary issues but as you clearly esteem their services may be or become apt.
The singular consequence of dealing with auctioneers is that nothing sells for what you think it is worth. Indeed my experience is that some of them go so far as to investigate popular prices which they then reduce by 25%, insinuating it could probably be had for less (unless of course there is a reserve bid feature attached). And when it does sell, the auction fee of between 35 and 50% is deducted. What remains is yours or your grandchildren’s. Also, you have the memories of seemingly ephemeral ownership and/or possession. Remember those special dinners when it was such gasping delight to lay out the sterling silver flatware which you had so gleefully polished. Best not to recall what I am guessing were the subsequent instances when the identical flatware lay in the lower drawer of the sideboard, perhaps wrapped in soft cotton swabs, becoming in any event appallingly tarnished.
Jumping ahead – since I realize I needn’t persist in this mournful account – I spoke today with Dupuis Jewellers who in turn directed me to Waddington’s. If I am to adjudge by my dealings with Dupuis, you will find Waddington’s helpful.
Best wishes to you and His Lordship! Looking forward to our rally in September!
Billy
Hugs & Kisses
If I had my druthers an ideal evening meal would be a compound of simplicity and traditional fare (as I have outlined below). And because this is entirely phantasmal and I no longer drink alcohol, I have added my former tipple choices as well.
Though I don’t typically adjudge myself superstitious, the mythical inclination is on occasion oddly spirited by effervescence, a contradiction which I can only relate to some broader vermin in one’s life. It’s almost a chastisement reminiscent of religious training. To be blunt, the chilling illusion of despondency is by peculiar irrationality never far removed from affecting moments of cheerfulness. Nonetheless I resist the putative elevation of hesitancy and so-called worldliness to contaminate a perfectly desirable circumstance.
What it is that compels perfect strangers to cast the mustard seed of their evangelicalism upon the infertile territory of my being I shall never understand. Nor in the meantime have I any intention to withstand the impropriety and trespass. I am strictly apostolic in that regard. I accept that my determination to preserve my individualism and personal identity renders me close competition for those blackguards who insist upon remaining unvaccinated as though the recommendation were a violation of their entirety. Apart from that inconvenient and otherwise inapplicable likeness I persist to ride my bicycle without a helmet.
Picture this: six hedonistic gentlemen in Provincetown, Cape Cod late September; nestling into a cultivated ambience of maritime antiquity, dissolving from the Tea Dance at the nearby iconic Boat Slip; dining upstairs in a restaurant on Commercial Street overlooking Cape Cod Bay. The customary perfect, dry, warm weather abounds, the declining sunset over the dunes. After dinner at table, Johnnie nudges me, inviting me to retreat with him to the quiet bar adjoining. We do so. No doubt I lit a Winston cigarette en route to the dark mahogany bar to signify my retirement from the present scene.
Our little country town has been overtaken by swarms of people erecting numerous large tents in the centre of town in preparation for the “Puppets Up!” weekend. And the weather could not be more perfect! The air is decidedly fresh and breezy; the temperature 72ºF and the same is forecast for tomorrow.
Endorsement of anyone for anything is to be contemplated cautiously. Although endorsement in the political arena is a public proclamation of support, it is more significantly an assertion of validation. When appraising the pros and cons of an individual for public office, it helps to know more than the advertised credentials (such as the library board, the textile museum, the HUB, Almonte Centennial Celebrations and 2008 Mississippi Mills Cultural Volunteerism Award – all of which just happen to apply to Mary Lou Souter). The acid test however is more personal.