…once I’ve written enough of one of my ongoing projects to show you, I’ll send that out…
~ Jacob ~

That terse but accommodating notation – apart from a Happy Easter salutation – was quite literally the bottom line of an email I recently received from a chap who identifies himself as a writer. Or, more precisely, from a chap who had the fraternity to call me a “fellow writer”. I had told him in my opening email to him that “I consider writing a hobby of mine.” Though I doubt I’ve made an inductive leap to label him a writer. He appears to take the calling humourlessly; indeed to the point of self-incrimination if he ignores his stated objective to become a published author.

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My late mother – who was I suppose a devout Roman Catholic – was accustomed to announce with moderate conviction that the sun always dances on the morning of Easter Sunday. I am uncertain what if anything she derived from that patently metaphorical observation but she nonetheless insisted upon repeating it year after year. Religiously. Religion meanwhile is collectively acknowledged to be under critical examination; and by other accounts it is generally on the way out. Picturing the performances of those professing the Christian faith – from swinging incense lamps, extraordinary costumes, curious prerogatives for eating and drinking, and the astonishing magic of television clerical personalities – it is to my mind befitting that the questionability of it all should arise.

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It was five days ago we reappeared on Canadian soil following an absence of 4½ very agreeable and purely lanquid months on Hilton Head Island, SC in the United States of America where the North Atlantic Ocean was our outer boundary, the shoreline and pathway along which we regularly cycled and surveyed the vast distant horizon and the source of pleasing moisture and ineffable sea air that buoyed us throughout our journey there. We returned to overtake our apartment for the next six months before departing once again. During these past few days we’ve managed already to address several matters of concern. Other duties await during the remainder of the month after which things kick into routine agenda like renewals, check-ups, income tax and birthdays.

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Although I am no longer a practicing Christian – and though I would not now tout myself as a pious individual – I cannot resist acknowledging the spiritual import of Easter, the reminder of unentitled but providential beneficence. We have a lot to be thankful for.  Just getting back to Almonte from South Carolina is for me a source of gratitude. I never presume that we shall escape chance misfortune. And at my age, based upon the record of others within the same time sphere, it’s now all gravy. I’m not saving anything for the funeral.

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When I drove into the City early this morning for a ten o’clock appointment with my jeweller I could tell that people had already abandoned their professional duties in favour of the upcoming Easter Weekend which I suppose technically starts tomorrow Good Friday. It made the drive on the Queensway a comfortable one – though naturally I arrived too early for my appointment and was forced to lean against a stone wall awaiting the appropriate time to meet with the jeweller.

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When I got on the scales this morning I was surprised that the damage report was as low as it is. Not that it is low by any account; just less than I had thought woud be the case. Today is our first full day back in Canada following our winter sojourn down south.  It’s as good a time as any to start a diet.

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The last leg of our homeward bound journey today from Hilton Head Island, SC was from Cortland, NY which is only a couple of hours from the Canadian border. Knowing that, we lingered this morning over breakfast at the hotel. We were chuffed upon leaving the hotel to drive into dazzling yellow sunshine surrounded by clear blue sky. The ribbon of highway through upstate New York to the border was a delight to drive. The scenery throughout is paramountly rural, vast hillsides and open fields, seemingly uninhabited and remote.

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When we left Hampton Inn in Hagerstown, Maryland around 7:30 am after our complimentary breakfast of porridge, banana, strawberry yoghurt, plain bagel (with butter and peanut butter), cheese omelet, sausage patties, honey glazed donuts and coffee the morning sky had begun to awaken and heralded a clear and bright day for the 4-hour drive through the mountains to Cortland, New York.

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Two Buttermilk Pancakes n’ butter served with two eggs* and a sampling of Thick-Sliced Bacon, Smoked Sausage and Sugar Cured or Country Ham. Served with Fried Apples or Hashbrown Casserole (170/190 cal) and 100% Pure Natural Syrup.

After putting on the nose bag at Cracker Barrel Old Country Store in Christiansburg, Virginia late this morning we were ready for a nap.  We had waited about 40 minutes to be seated.  The place was packed! But we hadn’t any misgivings about the delay.  In fact we profited by the wait by going across the street to fill the car with gas. It was initially too cool to sit outside the restaurant in one of the many rocking chairs so we spent the remainder of our waiting time browsing the huge collection of preposterous gifts, clothing and sweets like pecan clusters, sugared popcorn and fudge.

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The Carnegie Hotel in Johnson City, Tennessee was our first overnight stop on the way home to Canada from South Carolina. We’ve stayed there before.  We booked dinner in the hotel’s Wellington restaurant. General John T. Wilder, the builder in 1891 of the original hotel which, after it burned to the ground, rose from the ashes in today’s replica Art Deco manifestation, would no doubt have approved of our custom. The sweet after the evening meal was a lavender crème brûlée, a signature item on the menu proscribed by first come, first serve. Our eager waitress skilfully protected our interest by invoking that well known device of broaching the subject of dessert before embracing the lesser matter of hors d’oeuvres.  In fairness she may have first enquired about a restorative cocktail but we years ago rid ourselves of that complication.

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