Morning blur

Following an uncommonly undisturbed sleep last night, when I awoke refreshed – and after recovering my acquaintance with the bedroom wall hangings – I pondered the fortuity. I was anxious to maintain whatever tranquillity of mind and body had accommodated such somnific pleasantness. Strangely one of the things immediately apparent was that yesterday I hadn’t tricycled about the garage as I normally do; and, as a result my limbs and thighs were less taut than they otherwise are following such modest activity. I am too reminded of my late father who perished not until approaching his 96th year; and, until then he had continued to get about in a small way.  The point I wish to make is that he preserved an acceptable degree of mobility without having to go to the gymnasium every day. In fact he virtually abandoned anything resembling exercise in the last 20 years of his life (though until then he remained remarkably athletic, walking to and from his nearby garden, or the unfathomable enterprise of walking from Bruce Farms to Dow’s Lake to visit his grandchildren).

My inescapable inner conflict is not only the recognition that moderate exercise even for the elderly is a good idea; but also the undeniable life-long attachment I have for cycling. As a consequence this morning, immediately upon departing the lair I removed myself to the Acon Rebounder (mini trampoline) and proceeded with a three-minute jumping exercise. It always surpasses my initial estimate of success. The bouncing up and down stimulates everything from the feet to the back; and, judging my the limited length of time I can endure the movement, it stimulates the heart and lungs. Whatever the benefit, it succeeded to dissolve the associated guilt of indolence that I knew was to describe the remainder of my day.

The wispy grey morning sky and the shimmering frozen river complemented the snow covered fields with their native threads of tawny shrubs and skeletal trees.  But I was in for a colourful surprise!  Chef Denis asked whether I would like some eggs?  Any perhaps with some grated cheese? What followed shortly thereafter was an unprecedented culinary achievement! Without a word of a lie, the preparation was the nec plus ultra! In addition to satisfying my addiction to cheese and eggs there was the gratification of the avocado oil. I can tell you my mind soars just thinking of it! Here was the morning sunshine in a bowl (Crown Derby naturally).

The frugal workout and the amber narcotic had perfectly rounded the start of my day. I lapsed into empty recollections and the discovery of moments long forgotten. Naturally I asked myself, “Where does the time go?”  Now that it’s 2025 I find I must routinely check the calendar to ensure I have the correct year and century.  I vividly recall pronouncing that I’d never make it far beyond the year 2000.  But those numbers have climbed relentlessly. Once again – perhaps now with somewhat more credibility – I find myself pronouncing (in my inner voice that is) the impending limitation of my time here on earth. The mind/body dichotomy is far more tangible now than in those salad days at Glendon Hall on a warm autumn day, looking onto the quadrangle through the window of the 2nd floor classroom where the Philosophy Professor muttered his words and puffed his endless chain of cigarettes.