It is unfair to label today’s unadorned and unproductive indolence as wasteful. Wastefully extravagant, perhaps; but not spent unwisely. Nor do I consider the fleeting matters of mind and spirit trifling. Regularly now I am learning that having nothing in particular to do, being at unqualified ease to congregate upon a whim, to spend boundless hours in fitful discussion and hilarity, having no agenda to be heedful of – these are the pardonable affectations that now justifiably and properly absorb my attention. As a result I am equally unrepentant.  Indeed I am inclined to think that if one were not – for some reason that I cannot begin to imagine – disposed to adopt these characteristics for blush or colour, then surely there must be unfathomable difficulty at hand.

As was bluntly remarked late this afternoon by my friend in New Zealand during our very warm FaceTime confab, “Why not?” It is succinct rhetoric of vast application especially for those of us “of an age”. Granted we had been addressing the advisability of surgery to treat spinal stenosis. My South Pacific friend (known by the way as a “Kiwi”) stated that the current popularity of the procedure is inarguable. He should know: he’s had it! But no matter the putative depth of the discourse, the recommendation of openness to conversation and controversy is beyond debate.

From this intense analysis and conclusion it is perfectly digestible to devote one’s modest daily career to a choice of butter tarts – plain or topped with raisins – or the more fashionable oatmeal chocolate cookie made by the bakery agency that services Hummingbird Café where I met with my friend Just Stephen to get the inside track on those living on the right side of town, including, so I learned to my surprise, the currency surrounding the Jamieson clan (my predecessor’s family). It is virtually mystical – the serendipitous manner in which it all connects – such that I feel to have fallen within the scope of a transcendental realm, one which makes me shamefully reluctant to challenge anyone else’s spiritual persuasion. Nor – by way of further example – is it an accident that our erstwhile lawyer Evelyn Wheeler lives nearby Just Stephen.

Which reminds me: only yesterday I bemoaned the absence of the granola formerly made by our lawyer’s son. We used to buy it at Dandelion Foods “offering organic groceries, supplements, and local products, serving the community’s interest in healthy eating and local sustainability”. It illustrates what I am saying about frittering away one’s life; namely, it behooves us  each to relish that which speaks to us. I will however restrict that liberty to exclude trite material possessions.  Without disclosing the trigger of this common inclination, as a matter of record I wish to observe the necessity first to question the indispensability of anything; then, having assured oneself of the propriety of doing so, to enjoy it to its fullest.  Most certainly there are things – material things – that have value. But I worn against hoarding. If you’re not going to use it or see it everyday, then when? We haven’t entitlement to presume to be able to do so tomorrow, the next day or ever after.