Winter is upon us. There is no escaping the seasonal shift. The air is frosty, the trees are stark and crystalline. There are wispy snow drifts on the distant farmhouse rooftops. The vision now is predominantly inward, huddling among the bejewelled coloured rugs and the dark furniture, soothed by the richness of the crystal decanters of vermillion Porto and auburn Cognac. Christmas cards ornament the console with fanciful fireside images of gifts and sleeping cats and dogs.

Wednesday, our housekeeper’s scheduled visit. We shall as usual vacate the premises. Because we already have on our calendar numerous outings planned in December, we intend to confine our distraction sufficiently to eclipse the household duties. That means a wintry drive up the Valley towards the County of Renfrew, through White Lake, bypassing Burnstown but stopping at Antrim Truck Stop for carrot cake. We shall afterwards return to the hearth then prepare for tomorrow’s anticipated travel to the Pembroke Regional Hospital, the first of a succession of related surgical attendances which have precipitously evolved within the past 24 hours. Naturally it is a credit to our health system – the family physicians, the surgeons, the nurses and the front line management workers who so skillfully conduct the whole – that matters have evolved so speedily following the initial biopsy results several weeks ago. I can’t resist observing too that much of the applause is warranted in particular by the so-called rural practitioners in the country hospitals.

We used this morning’s outing as occasion to do some grocery shopping. Next the car wash. Then home again to complete the excursion; and, once again retire to our mystic vantage along the Mississippi River in our comfortable den. During our drive we have communicated with two hospital liaisons and a representative of Hearing Life. For the moment our itinerary is complete. We’ll avoid unnecessary speculation about the future. It is sufficient that we are managing our current affairs.