On the 5th day of June, 2022 I awoke to a splendid summer day. When I say “awoke” it was not abrupt. Last evening we lingered unrestrained in our leather lounge chairs before the television watching exotic cooking shows until approaching 2:00 am and finally relented but only hesitantly.  Then I swear the first hour in bed I twisted back and forth side-to-side attempting to accommodate uncontrollable leg cramps and sudden nervous explosions. It wasn’t until 5:00 am that I first recovered from the ensuing tranquility and took my customary handful of early morning pills. They as usual proved sufficient to subdue my carcass for another period of sleep which today shamefully extended until nearly eleven o’clock when as I say, I awoke to a splendid summer day.

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“James was absurd enough to imagine that there was a more speedy and efficacious remedy. He could, he conceived, at once extricate himself from his financial difficulties by the simple process of calling a farthing a shilling. The right of coining was undoubtedly a flower of the prerogative; and, in his view, the right of coining included the right of debasing the coin. Pots, pans, knockers of doors, pieces of ordnance which had long been past use, were carried to the mint. In a short time lumps of base metal, nominally worth near a million sterling, intrinsically worth about a sixtieth part of that sum, were in circulation. A royal edict declared these pieces to be legal tender in all cases whatever. A mortgage for a thousand pounds was cleared off by a bag of counters made out of old kettles. The creditors who complained to the Court of Chancery were told by Fitton to take their money and be gone.”

“There can be no question that James, in thus altering, by his own authority, the terms of all the contracts in the kingdom, assumed a power which belonged only to the whole legislature. Yet the Commons (Ireland) did not remonstrate. There was no power, however unconstitutional, which they were not willing to concede to him, as long as he used it to crush and plunder the English population.”

Excerpt From
The History of England, from the Accession of James II — Volume 3
Thomas Babington Macaulay

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I would be remiss were I not to record my soaring delight this morning during our routine bicycle ride about the neighbourhood and along the Ottawa Valley Trail with the exceptionally fresh air that greeted us. The atmosphere was for the time of year uncommonly cool, crisp and clear. The fresh air was strangely rich almost syrupy. It was in short a singularly fresh air, invigorating and cleansing. I was thankful to have worn a light jacket to escape the early morning briskness.

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Greed (or avarice) is an uncontrolled longing for increase in the acquisition or use of material gain (be it food, money, land, or animate/inanimate possessions); or social value, such as status, or power. Greed has been identified as undesirable throughout known human history because it creates behavior-conflict between personal and social goals.

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The fortuity of today’s social gatherings has exceeded design. The three communal occasions of which I speak were replete with luck and fortune. Likewise the outcome of the unplanned assemblies was one of personal fulfillment. There was the thrill of having accomplished the clouds of anxiety surrounding the recurring question, “I wonder how they’re doing?”

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We inhabit a small apartment.  Yet I don’t believe we’ve ever complained. You see even if we haven’t much physical space we’ve managed to create a psychical space. It helps having ear pods and headphones to accommodate the variety of preferences whether television, internet or music.

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Salut, Daniel!

Thank-you for having sent me your erudite article.

It pains me as a member of the human race that we suffer such absorption in war, submission to the control efforts of a patent madman or others who subscribe to a misguided sense of superiority or entitlement often fuelled by racism or religion. Have we learned nothing in 2000 years of recorded history? Are we still snarling animals pissing on territory? Is war as natural as male animals vying for dominance?

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Resisting an affront (however warranted the incisive retort) may prove to be its own undoing. As I’ve heard it said by those whose wisdom I admire, “Let the shit go down the street!”  Sometimes it is better to step aside without engaging in contradiction or lapsing irretrievably into the popular vernacular. Inexplicably today I chose instead to stand my ground. Literally.

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The Mississippi Golf Club in the Village of Appleton is for us a choice summertime venue. It’s our Porgy and Bess. Located along the meandering Mississippi River it is especially appealing on a balmy, clear Saturday morning such as today when the verdant vegetation is lush, the soaring birds are chirping and the shimmering river is high. To enhance today’s attendance we arranged on short notice to rally with an ancient friend originally from Ottawa and latterly from Nova Scotia but who now lives in nearby Smiths Falls. The primary skill is to calculate the visit to coincide with the weather. And to insure there is no special event to interrupt the casual and convenient ceremony of breakfasting on the patio overlooking the first green – though this morning the annoying female mosquitoes were prolific and drove us into the clubhouse for shelter.

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Over a lifetime – since 1963 when I was 14 years old – I have written diaries, poems, plays, an autobiography, biographies, the history of a Masonic lodge, a newspaper column and various blogs (quite apart from voluminous court, testamentary and estate planning documents). You’d think by now I’d have some sense of the recommendation, “Write what you know”. Yet if I have learned anything it has been a slow evolution. There appears to be a natural divide between what we say and what we want to say. I believe the bewilderment arises from a misguided confusion of  “proper” delivery and “authentic “ exposition. The sort of thing you blame on your parents.

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