I have a cold.  All the usual symptoms – running nose, watery eyes, dry cough, generally feeling wretched.  I went to bed early last evening and slept passably well throughout the night.  When I chanced to awaken as is my custom around 7:00 am I decided it were best to get up and get moving. Before heading to the car wash (which opens at 8:00 am) I went shopping at Publix (which opens at 7:00 am) for the groceries I required. Although the store is located next to Walgreens (which is open 24 hours) I took the chance there would be stock cold medicine at Publix.  And there was.  I got Mucinex and NyQuil. I really have no idea which of them works if at all. I am in that respect a confessed slave to television advertisements.

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In the mundane universe where one is regularly involved with people serving you – car wash lackeys, grocery store clerks, bicycle shop repairmen, desk clerks, medical clinic assistants and to a lesser extent retail staff generally – the matter of tipping sometimes arises. I am not here addressing those situations in which tipping is  “understood” or expected such as in restaurants for servers or in hotels for bellhops or masseuses. Rather I speak of the low-level service industries in which tipping is not anticipated or presumed on either side of the transaction; or where the acquaintance is so hurried that the possibility of stopping along the way to extend a handout is awkward.

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The pool is not my preferred stopping place.  It has the advantage of a chaise longue to defeat the perceived inconvenience of laying on the white sandy beach.  And there’s a restroom nearby. Otherwise I would rather linger by the Ocean. But today I needed to escape the routine of pedalling to give my decomposing knees a rest. Cycling about 15 kms almost every day has its consequence. Turns out the cool water in the pool may have done some good.  Not the least of which may include an assault upon the neuropathy. As for the rest, I am tingling from the sunshine. I’ll likely have a stronger, more uncomfortable reaction later in the day.

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Though I hadn’t  necessity to do so this morning – for there was nothing on our agenda until 11:00 am when Sea Shack opens for service – I nonetheless ritually ejected myself from the incomparably comfortable lair precisely at 7:04 am. My Protestant work ethic runs deep. Nor will I bore my dear reader – or perhaps more significantly embarrass myself – to recount what further ceremony I performed at eight o’clock when another cherished service opened for its customers. Then after the consumption of an awakening plate of sliced green apple (and a handful of OTC pills – the legitimacy of which I ascribe primarily to its uncertain sense of efficacy) – we collected our bicycles from the rack and headed for Sea Shack, our preferred beanery for quality fare conveniently served to us at an outdoor picnic table.

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Lately we’ve been indulged day upon day with such fine weather that this morning I was unable to bemoan the cool air and the grey skies. I did however recover my gusto commensurately when I read that the wind today was almost directly from the east at 24 km/h which bodes well for hightailing it along the beach from Coligny Beach Park to Sea Pines Beach Club.  That is precisely what I ended doing after breakfast and dithering on my computer, unwittingly affording an adequate window for the high tide at 10:00 am to descend reasonably before launching the sailing adventure.

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We had a record outing this morning.  Up at six o’clock sharp.  Seated at table at Palmetto Bay Sunrise Café around 7:00 am. Consumption of avocado toast (each of us), shrimp and spinach Benedict (for His Lordship) and protein combination of eggs, bacon, sausage and cheese (for me) accomplished before eight o’clock. Then groceries and back home shortly after 9:00 am! Whew!  Oh, and a car wash too!

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Seemingly the vibrancy in life involves coming and going not remaining static. At the beginning of March we’ve begun to contemplate our departure from Hilton Head Island and our return to Canada for the summer.  It’s not that we’re anxious to leave. Indeed just moments ago upon our return from an early morning breakfast at the Palmetto Bay Sunrise Café (Local Favourite for 18 years!) we revelled in the exceeding delight of the sojourn so far this year. Yet knowing the upcoming commotion of the RBC Heritage Classic golf tournament – and frankly having exhausted the novelty of our quotidian affairs – we cannot but react hesitatingly to an invasion of our erstwhile private space and instead look with renewed enthusiasm upon our approaching return home.  Since December last year the Island has been predominantly secluded from the precipitous traffic that is to follow marking the start of the season here. Our reclusive and nomadic instincts are once again percolating within us.

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scruples
a feeling that prevents you from doing something that you think may be morally wrong;
In common terms, conscience is often described as leading to feelings of remorse when a person commits an act that conflicts with their moral values;
connected with principles of right and wrong behaviour;
Middle English scrupil, scriple, from Anglo-French scruple, from Latin scrupulus a unit of weight, diminutive of scrupus sharp stone

diffidence
Shyness (also called diffidence) is the feeling of apprehension, lack of comfort, or awkwardness especially when a person is around other people;
Middle English dyffidence, borrowed from Latin diffīdentia,from diffīdent-, diffīdens “distrustful, DIFFIDENT”

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You’d think with all the tennis activity practically at our front doorstep (well, actually, just across the laneway from the balcony) I’d have a photo of a tennis court but I don’t.  My preoccupation has been averted from both tennis and golf – which are the two most proximate absorptions of many others in the immediate neighbourhood – by my worship of the Ocean. I never tire of the allure of the sea notwithstanding it is all of 2 kms from here by bicycle (or perhaps as little as 100 yards if I preferred instead to walk to the yacht basin on the other side of our apartment).

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Judging by my quotidian activity and observable preferences,  I relate most emphatically to music not mathematics or science. Nonetheless harmony is to me best described in the context of physics; namely, component frequencies of a complex oscillation (movement back and forth in a regular rhythm). I see my life as just that.

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