Quite alarmingly every day as the late afternoon draws to a close and the florid remains of the evening sun enrich the western sky I marvel at what a busy day I’ve had without being busy at all. I should put it down to regimen – you know, the boring but time consuming repetition of events day after day.  I’m a prime candidate for that. I thrive upon routine! Today for example (or just about any day really): out of bed (plus making the bed) and bicycling on la route précise before the clock has struck 9:00 am; followed by the vital shower and accompanying ablutions (including naturally the rinsing of the spectacles, iPhone and Apple Watch); then the standard breakfast of sliced green apples, baguette bagel with Champfleury cheese and steel cut oats; and finally rounded out with a unhurried automobile drive in the country. I mean to say, there goes the day!

• Creamy and unctuous, with a white rind that becomes orange with time and an irresistible fruity taste, Champfleury is the undisputed king of soft cheeses. Champfleury is the creamiest of our soft cheeses. Made in Canada and inspired by the greatest French cheeses, it is made of pasteurized milk and cream.

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Louis XIV was known as the Sun King for a reason. He and his court were frequently sought for influence.  It may however surprise one to learn that Louis XIV pursued others as well.

The King surrounded himself with a variety of significant political, military, and cultural figures, such as Mazarin, Colbert, Louvois, the Grand Condé, Turenne, Vauban, Boulle, Molière, Racine, Boileau, La Fontaine, Lully, Charpentier, Marais, Le Brun, Rigaud, Bossuet, Le Vau, Mansart, Charles Perrault, Claude Perrault, and Le Nôtre.

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Though looking at both the present and the future is no more than an obscure assessment of what is already before us, our sinews are nonetheless agitated by the thought of the future as though it were some aspirational goal as opposed to a synthesis of currency. Often I find that projection about the future belies a considerable satisfaction with the present. It is rather like pecan pie – one piece and you want more! Maybe even with whipped cream the second time!

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Upon leaving the garage and cycling up the ramp early this morning it required no accommodation of the fresh air. It was like having one’s face stroked with rose petals, soothing and fragrant to a fault! This pleasing start to the day’s constitutional bode well for what followed. Along the route (“la Route Précise” as we jokingly call it) I passed a tiny field of crocuses rearing their purple heads through the leafy bed into the sunshine. It said all there was to be said about springtime. Seeing it inspired me to notice the burgeoning leaves on the trees as well. Spring had arrived!

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As a former practicing lawyer – and one who distinguished himself both in study and practice in constitutional law – I am shamefully unable exactly to define the role of royalty in all matters Canadian. Nonetheless the words ringing in my ears are, “Her Majesty by and with the advice and consent of the Legislative Assembly of the Province of Ontario, enacts as follows“. A clarified reading of that stock preamble to every statute law of Ontario might be, “The Queen, based upon the elected representatives of the people, enacts as follows“. The Statute of Westminster put the matter to rest. Essentially it turned everything about, shifting the power of the Queen back to the representatives of the people.

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Burnt toast, not unlike many things, is best when eaten freshly made – right out of the toaster. The preference for burnt toast attracts only few, in my experience usually the minority in number. It is an oddity frequently associated with those who have other peculiarities – or, should I say, differences. Pointedly the burnt element of the toast does not imply an excessive behaviour.  The goal is not to exceed the gentle browning alternative.  That is, it isn’t so much a cosmetic thing as a factor of taste and health.  From some reports the putatively carcinogenic nature of the burnt toast (charcoal) absorbs toxins helping to relieve an upset stomach. While some blend the flavour of burnt toast with butter, jam, honey or peanut butter, others specifically cherish the toasted flavour.

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Sometimes things just go right! I’m having one of those boundless sunny mornings where seemingly nothing can go wrong.  I removed myself from the virginal lair without a struggle – at least none surpassing the groaning gymnastic that represents my twisted departure from the high mattress to rest my aching neuropathic feet upon the precious Persian below. The bicycle ride – though as much as I could willingly tolerate this fine morning – was accomplished in good order well before 9:30 am. Perhaps afterwards it was the restoring ablutions; or maybe the divine quality of the baguette bagel with the Champfleury ripened cheese!  Or that my pants fit.  All told it’s a booms-a-daisy mood I’m in, pleased I know not why, spirited by an unqualified gusto for life.

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It speaks to my supreme indolence that after a day of moderate industry I am thoroughly knackered. Indeed this morning’s “scheduled” meeting by Zoom with an ancient friend had me before the connection behaving as though I were in a business environment, watching the clock tick until the moment of lift-off! Naturally there were no external restraints once we got chatting; but I am uncertain that I would initiate a Zoom meeting again other than for business. I find FaceTime or similar options more organic, less commingled with worldly preparation and planning; still having the overriding flavour of spontaneity so welcome in calls between friends.

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I am scheduled to chat through Zoom tomorrow with an ancient friend named Max. It is the first meeting in a long time that I’ve been scheduled to attend. There is rather an air of formality to it. My friend is from Toronto. We were classmates in 1963 and have hung together sporadically since then.  As I motored about Renfrew County this breezy and brilliantly sunny afternoon, windows open, landau roof propelled back, feeling the heat of the sun and absorbing the mechanical precision of the Ford Motor Company beneath my anodized carcass, I pondered what might usefully and perhaps even objectively be put on the table so to speak for discussion tomorrow. I mean to say, what exactly does one talk about with an old friend? Is it possible to sustain meaningful relationship after such long periods of absence?  Or do we never change? Is it possible to read too much into a willy-nilly rendezvous? Or should one approach the matter with reverence, casting one’s mind humbly upon the inevitability that will one day follow and separate us forever?  Or do old school friends just bounce back to the youthful texture of years ago?

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The COVID pandemic and its incremental variations have not disappeared and there is now popular speculation that we’re in for a long haul.  The anxious possibility of a relentless plague is also percolating. All this means that staying at home and living exclusively within Canada is something to be revitalized in the short run.

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