Say what you will, he’s not a warmonger

Although he likes to talk with bravado – and frequently threatens retaliatory action if things don’t go his way – Trump, for all his faults and appearance as a schoolyard bully, has never embraced the mantle of a warmonger. I suppose the same could be said of just about any of the American presidents in the past century. What makes Trump stand out is that he not only resists the need or temptation to align himself with one side or the other of a conflict, he encourages the two sides to lay down their arms and get on with the business of improving life.

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Giardino Segreto

Increasingly I am narrowing my focus. This is not however demonstrative of an enviable concentration. Most certainly it doesn’t represent a frolicking adventurous spirit. It is a product of aging. Whether by virtue of having already attempted all that I dare to encounter; or whether it merely reflects an acknowledgement of my growing incapacity, either way I haven’t a persuasive fervour to remove myself from my current environment. Today for example I have tripped across the North Atlantic Ocean to the Island of Madagascar, then further afield – with more evidence of French imperialism – to Mauritius in the Indian Ocean. It was all terribly exhausting.

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Drawing room leisure

For as long as I can remember I have sat at a desk – whether in prep school, undergraduate studies, law school, law office and into retirement. The nature of the desks has evolved simultaneously – from unimpressive synthetics to weathered pine to mahogany hardwood laterally adorned with brass handles and corners. Commensurately the history of desk lamps has also gradually changed – from goosenecks to candlestick lamps to Grecian urns. My drawing room leisure has always been focused on the desk which constitutes my current perspective to the world.

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A tree

When we lived on Laura Crescent we had a handsome leafy tree in the front yard (I think it was a traditional maple tree, though it may have been called a Red maple). The leaves began as deep rich green with blood red tint. It had afforded progressive years of enjoyment in addition to the usual pile of autumnal leaves which greatly amused our French bulldog Munroe. During a freezing rain storm, the tree split down the middle.  Our neighbour across the street kindly agreed to complete the ruin and then harboured the remnants as firewood.

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The Clayton Parish

Definition of a parish

In non-religious terms, a parish can be described as an intergenerational community that engages with people from birth to death, and gathers regularly, often with music and song, to learn about values that promote civil society and personal well-being; to reflect on what it means to live in a good way; to grow and be renewed in spiritual ways; to provide durable social connection; and to share individual and collective gifts in the service of others.

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Friday morning cycle

It wasn’t terribly long ago that I decided to limit the scope of my daily cycling to the immediate neighbourhood. For as much as I have always enjoyed a degree of adventure on these athletic outings, the plain truth is that my gusto for the escapade has declined with age. In addition I have lost my enthusiasm for the endurance of gravel pathways and rough roads, preferring instead to maintain a predictably smooth passage upon the interior carriageways.

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Au printemps

With a forecast of May showers throughout the day, then clearing sunny skies and mounting temperatures – plus the overnight parade of greenery which distinguishes both the trees, the grasses and the fields, the advent of springtime is incontrovertible.  It won’t be long before we see kayaks and paddle boards on the river. Already the swollen spring freshet has diminished noticeably and the shoreline bullrushes thrive accordingly.

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