I cannot recall when we last attended a winter foregathering.  Coffee chats, yes. Art gallery outings, yes.  A drive to the car wash, yes. A luncheon for four. But I have no spontaneous recollection of a winter party. Today however we painted the calendar; rather, we enacted the event which has been on the calendar for several weeks. Thanks to the singular generosity and unparalleled ambition of our immediate neighbour Lynne and her unwitting sidekick Cora – both unabashed country gals who know how to handle a gun – we received an invitation to Cora’s country estate located on the cusp of Ramsay Township and the Village of Pakenham separated by Cedar Hill Side Road which identifies the route to the celebrated properties of maple syrup champion Shirley Deugo (née Fulton) and artist Stephen Braithwaite among other renowned local inhabitants who distinguish the County and beyond.

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The air is filled with tiny particles of snow softly descending, diverging in ambivalent commotion. The wind is a faint aimless gesture. Narrowing my eyes to the misty grey horizon all is muted between the snow covered scars of the harvested cornfields, a blanket of white along the icing winding river. The shoreline trees are a blur. The arms and  channeled seats of the frozen patio chairs on the balcony are covered in a blister of white. December has levelled its implacability,

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An annoying thread connected with a recent tooth extraction has thankfully dissolved and let go.  I felt its prickly plastic sensation during breakfast this morning while eating a slice of peach. I am one step closer to getting the implant – though there may yet be months ahead as the periodontist awaits proof that the post she inserted has grafted to the bone. Even the synthetic must take root. So in the tradition of J. Alfred Prufrock I shall continue to wander between the rooms.

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Often to the point of stinging paradox – and mockingly with an outcome as foreseeable as it is unpredictable – I am reminded of the mercurial nature of living. In spite of our efforts to the contrary, life’s aporia prove impossible to escape. We float from one sphere to another, up and down. We’re like a pinball precipitously and variously descending from top to bottom, bouncing back and forth, at times with, at times without advantage, but always on the move, unshielded from fortune, good or bad. We humans are no different from life’s other creatures. Would that we had the capacity of the tiny squirrel to avoid the vulnerability of fate with apparent equanimity.

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The Pembroke Regional Hospital – which I suspect is one large building or a series of conjoined buildings constructed successively as the need arose – is compartmentalized into access by buildings A, B, C and D. The entrances are all located within sight of one another though obviously different distances from one another and from the parking lot. B and C are central and the most popular. The overall effect is that the entrances to the various departments are approachable and comfortable.  We were received immediately upon arrival today then told to sit in the waiting area until collected. The receptionist was exceedingly buoyant and pleasant to deal with. We hadn’t long to wait. Things were on schedule.

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Reading Plutarch’s Moralia has inspired both cautious curiosity and deliberate dismissal; the one because I am amused to know the thinking of the ancients, the other because it is hopelessly patrician and disingenuous. The precepts regarding education, borrowing of money, restraining anger and contentedness of mind are inarguable.  I wasn’t however prepared for the essay regarding friends and enemies. In short, he embraced the singular theme that the two are united. His summary conclusion is this:

“For fire burns whoever touches it, but it also gives light and warmth, and is an instrument of art to all those who know how to use it.”

Excerpt From
Plutarch’s Morals
Plutarch

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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.

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Throughout my life there have been appointments. In prep school there was morning chapel.  We literally went to church every day of the week and twice on Sundays (matins and vespers). Then there was football practice in the afternoon followed in the evening by a short break (I forget what it was called) between studies and “lights out!” The next morning the alarm in the hallways rang at 7:00 am and it was into the showers, then breakfast at the Great Hall followed by classes. When I reached undergraduate studies the critical times were for lectures. Subsequently at law school, the same. Then in private practice came client appointments (only one of which I mistakenly missed – and for which I dutifully crawled) plus deciding when to leave for a short vacation. Finally, at this closing stage of my life, most appointments revolve around doctors, dentists and hospitals – checkups, consultations and surgery.

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When one is young it at first seems improbable that one will reach old age; and when we do, seldom do we think of it as achievement. There are nonetheless advantages that come with age, among them retirement, in addition to unblemished leisure and finally the time just to think, to recall and to reflect. The Greek biographer and philosopher Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus (Latin) aka Plutarch (c.46–c.120) had a more rousing version of the cause.

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Today it is snowing, changing to rain then wind. We’re getting what I expect is a trace of the storms currently affecting the North Atlantic coast of the United States. Tomorrow however is forecast to be a sunny day. And – because I haven’t installed winter tyres (relying instead upon my “all seasons”) I have therefore resolved, in preparation for our journey to the Pembroke Regional Hospital to meet with a surgeon regarding my recent melanoma cancer diagnosis,  to plug in the car for 100% charging.

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