It’s 11:00 o’clock on a dazzling sunny Friday morning. Sitting at the grocery store parking lot in my “loaner” car from the dealership while my vehicle is in repair. They just emailed me to advise the car is fixed and ready to be picked up. I’ll collect it at Reid Bros in Arnprior after the grocery shopping. Meanwhile I entertain myself by watching the people who come and go. People of all ages and varied apparel. Some are driving automobiles; others have trucks.
It isn’t every day one is inducted to the Hockey Hall of Fame. Late in life I have at last succeeded to the needle of Canadian celebrity. But even as I conclude this apocalyptic chapter of my life by addressing the cracked collateral of a precipitous bicycle fall on the beach years ago, I unwittingly advance upon a brighter cosmetic future (modestly initiated today by the bespoke composition of a bridge – the application of which must await 6 preparatory days following the extraction surgery). Nonetheless, dear Reader, the riveting particulars of the ensuing serendipity shall be set aside for later reference as I defer instead to the composition of a much warranted account of today’s event with the learned and capable professionals at DOCS (Dentistry On Catherine Street) in Ottawa this afternoon.
I have discovered, when casually meeting an acquaintance, one gets a great deal of spontaneous information for the asking. Granted, the enquiry – if it is to be effectual – goes beyond a dismissive comment about the weather. You ensure to ask directly, “So, what’d you do today?”
When I arrived in Almonte I was immediately taken by the collaboration of all levels of society, young and old, men and women, professionals and trades, student and teacher, minister and disciple, retailer and producer, farmer and townsfolk, clerk and customer, rich and poor, private and municipal. It was a bountiful environment, fresh, teeming with vitality and variety, and predominantly egalitarian; that is, “believing in or based on the principle that all people are equal and deserve equal rights and opportunities”. In that regard it resembled the purity and goals of what I understand to have been the Spartan way of life. Specifically Sparta exemplified the democratic model of government.
For the past several days people everywhere have been chatting energetically about it. The Snowfall Warning continues until daybreak tomorrow. About a week ago there was an early morning frost that resembled a skiff of snow; but today’s forecast is far less ambivalent. Already the harvested field is more defined as the white snow covers the earthly remains of the mutely coloured stalks. Meanwhile the faded stumps protrude from the snow like an army of perfectly aligned constituents. Today’s blast is the first snowfall of the season.
Today we lunched with Bruce and Graham – and their handsome dog Tanner – at their warm and welcoming residence in the Town of Smiths Falls, Lanark County along the Rideau Canal. The exceedingly flavourful meal – prepared as always with recognizable skill – was the perfect crescendo to our already vibrant confab. Our social history, serendipitous acquaintance and ancestral commonality contributed no doubt unwittingly to the fluency of the conversation. It was only our abhorrence of driving in the dark which accelerated our otherwise sparing departure from the drawing room and after-luncheon coffee.
It is named after Thomas Smyth, a United Empire Loyalist who in 1786 was granted 1.6 square kilometres (400 acres) in what is present-day Smiths Falls. The Heritage House Museum (c. 1862), also known as the Ward House, was designated under the Ontario Heritage Act in 1977.
Waiting has forever been a challenge for me. The immediate corollary is impatience. In business I excused the irritability arising from having to wait for information from another lawyer by arguing the urgency to clarify matters for my client. Very often my restlessness was well founded. The matter had been overlooked by the other firm or “fallen through the cracks”. As a result I smugly dismissed the prior recommendations to give the matter time or hold your horses. Probably things would have eventually worked out just fine; but the unhesitant pursuit of the affair unquestionably kept things moving.
The precipitous change from summer to autumn is already but a sketchy memory. The temperature has fallen. The burnished leaves have blown away. The cornfields are harvested. The squawking geese circle endlessly in flight. Daylight Savings Time has begun with its brilliant mornings and monstrously dark afternoons.
Not long ago I received (by email) a “selfie” of my elder niece (and goddaughter) and her handsome partner. I knew in an instant that it was a good shot. This seemingly idle observation of mine was all the more significant because of the casual, unwitting nature of the photograph. It was after all a “selfie”, an artistic flirtation not uncommon among the XYZ generations (basically, anything after The Beatles) and normally undertaken with a minimum of scrutiny or artistic devotion. It wasn’t a calculated composition; it was a whimsical snap. There was no posing. Yet it spoke to me. It was a keeper. But how to do so? Storing things had proven to be a disengaging exercise. It complicated the matter when I added the ingredient that my niece is a professional photographer, primarily equestrian; but anything else she touches regularly proves to be equally memorable. Her skill is not discretionary or exclusionary. Here, I reasoned, was an opportunity.
Forgive me – my apology for endless repetition – but I am compelled as a matter of duty to relate today’s encore brilliance. A simple matter, yes, perhaps; but one which nonetheless warrants unqualified attention for its splendour. It has been another glorious late autumn day in our tiny town – beaming yellow sunshine through the towering cumulonimbi, a fresh breeze, dry roads and cooperative traffic.