When suddenly there is good news, when in an instant the erstwhile anxiety which complicated one’s thoughts and contaminated one’s outlook evaporates, when in a flash the view of the world changes from obscure to certain, that’s how things work. Oh, yes, there are of course other troubles to distress, other worries to deter, to discolour the Rembrandt image of the shoreline trees reflected in the placid river mirror. There are always worries to prevent one from languidly listening to the squawking geese in the harvested field below the Hunter’s Moon. There will forever be provocations. That too is how things work. But the palliative interruption is welcome. It is relief from the burden of life’s unremitting and irritating trials. Like a detour down a quiet country road.

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.As for recreational travel, the Maritime provinces (New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island) generally shut down by the end of October. Hotels and restaurants close. Years ago I visited Prince Edward Island about this time of year just before the shutdown and pointedly upon the cancellation of a scheduled law school class reunion which I can only presume was muted for collective lack of interest – but it didn’t persuade me otherwise because I was caught by the prospect of salt sea air. I recall in particular (aside from the omnipresent Anne of Green Gables theme) having driven for miles along the endless oceanfront roads with no traffic at all. For those of us who prefer remoteness and quietude it is idyllic. Grand ocean resorts were mysteriously hollow and seemingly deserted. The long, long white sandy beaches stretched undisturbed and unoccupied.  Dining rooms were vacant.

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While driving my new Cadillac out of Stittsville this afternoon after having put the car through the touchless wash at Petro-Canada, I saw a man walking along the side of the road.  It is a busy roadway. But it is one with little but speeding traffic between its two ends. One end (apart from disappearing into remote country property) joins Highway #417; the other end connects to the former Town of Stittsville. Between the two extremities is the long road with gravel shoulders and very little development along it. The man who was walking looked to be overdressed; he wore an open winter coat which flapped in the wind and a winter hat which partly hid his face. He was carrying what looked to be a plastic bag of groceries (or at least something of importance). My overall impression was that he was a destitute fellow, a tramp or a vagrant. His uncommon appearance along the solitary roadway suggested he had been deposited there as a hitchhiker by whomever initially picked him up (perhaps someone en route into Ottawa along Highway #417).

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Yesterday I went on-line to Dillard’s (“The Style of Your Life”) at www.dillards.com (Canadian version) to purchase a pair of pants.  When I didn’t receive the usual acknowledgment of purchase by email (after having paid the account with my credit card) I became concerned.  My concern was heightened when I subsequently received an email from a company called Zonos (of which I had never heard) thanking me for having made my recent purchase at Zonos (which I also found to be curious).  When I tried contacting Zonos I spoke with a gentleman but the moment I revealed my concern that the payment was a scam, the call was disconnected.  I then called Bank of Montreal which confirmed the payment had been processed.  The bank agent could only suggest leaving it for a few days to see what happens as though the problem were somehow connected to Thanksgiving (which of course is only a holiday at this time of year in Canada not the United States of America where Dillard’s is located).

I then called Dillard’s. The agent advised there was no record of either the order or the payment. When I called Zonos again, I spoke with an agent whose theme was “Don’t worry, be happy!” I wasn’t yet convinced the problem was solved.  When I called Dillard’s again the agent’s immediate response was “I have bad news for you!”  There was no record of the purchase whatsoever (even after providing the Item # from the web site plus the size, colour, date and time of purchase). She said she would speak with a supervisor.  She put me on hold.

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Getting into the trough at Thanksgiving is seldom a challenge. Today however opened a new boulevard of indulgence; namely, a vegan meal (containing no food or other products derived from animals).

The foundations of veganism include ethical, moral, environmental, health and humanitarian arguments. Veganism excludes all animal use, for example in food (meat, fish, eggs, milk and dairy products, honey), in clothing and industry (leather, wool, fur and some cosmetics), entertainment (zoos, exotic pets, circuses), or services (guide dogs, police dogs, hunting dogs, working animals, or animal testing, including medical experimentation).

Fruits, vegetables, legumes, nuts, grains and mushrooms are the basic elements of vegan food. Since ancient times individuals have been renouncing the consumption of products of animal origin, but the term “veganism” is modern: it was coined in 1944 by Donald Watson with the aim of differentiating it from vegetarianism, which rejects the consumption of meat but accepts the consumption of other products of animal origin, such as milk, dairy products and eggs. Interest in veganism increased significantly in the 2010s.

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Driving in the city on Thanksgiving weekend is not recommended.. I much prefer an afternoon at my desk overlooking the farmland and river, sipping a chilled coffee and munching on a crisp apple from MacLaren Orchards in Renfrew County. We get so few of these days, time to just sit and enjoy.

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Often I’ve felt the molten heat and witnessed the white hot glare of sunlight behind closed eyes while on the deck of a ship to sea. I’ve sat at the bow upon the hardened expandable lounge chairs and dried wooden benches greyed by the sea salt spray. I’ve waited for the early morning mist to arise from within the sky, to look beyond and see nothing or everything to the horizon.

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Every day is a weekend.  It is one of the unparalleled advantages of old age, yet another bequest which I readily accept with unmitigated gratitude. The other bonuses are too numerous (and no doubt too inconsequential) to name; however I freely assert the uncommon superfluities of beneficence which I am pleased and privileged to relish and enjoy.

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This morning while tricycling in the cool air and autumn sunshine about the neighbourhood where we live, I encountered two gentlemen whom I have seen many times during the past couple of months. They appeared to be overseeing the construction of two townhouses on the Mississippi River located not far from our apartment building. After a brief hello to one of the chaps, I decided it was time to enlarge the acquaintance. When I alerted my intention by slowing and approaching the younger fellow, he quipped, “How many miles have you done!”  I thanked him for the compliment then enquired about the progress of construction.  He confirmed the self-evident recent landscaping then detailed the current undertakings inside and outside the two homes. I then asked whether the properties were owned by the same chap who owns (or has a material interest in) our own apartment building, to which the fellow replied, “Yes.  You were my father’s lawyer many years ago!”

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Although I sought to remain inert, wallowing in the blazing sunshine, upon the deck chair on the balcony earlier this morning when the sun was yet at its acute angle, my profitless and tranquil retirement was soon obstructed. I was unable to dither and allow my mind to wander aimlessly and soothingly. The cool air was for the first time warning of prospective moments to follow commensurate with the prismatic evolution of the trees along the distant shoreline of the river. The decidedly northerly wind gusts challenged my autumn apparel of a Patagonia shell with a high collar (and a silk scarf to boot). What however convinced me more sorely was my admission that a trip to the Pembroke hospital and matters related thereto awaited my grieving attention.

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