Rosh Hashanah

Rosh Hashanah marks the beginning of the civil year, according to the teachings of Judaism, and is the traditional anniversary of the creation of Adam and Eve, the first man and woman according to the Hebrew Bible, as well as the initiation of humanity’s role in God’s world.

Rosh Hashanah customs include sounding the shofar (a hollowed-out ram’s horn), as prescribed in the Torah, following the prescription of the Hebrew Bible to “raise a noise” on Yom Teruah. Its rabbinical customs include attending synagogue services and reciting special liturgy about teshuva, as well as enjoying festive meals. Eating symbolic foods, such as apples dipped in honey, hoping to evoke a sweet new year, is an ancient tradition recorded in the Talmud.

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Middle of the week

The weather today is uncommonly dreary.  We mustn’t complain though.  It has thus far been an endlessly sunny autumn, reminiscent of blissful fall days spent years ago at the start of university or vacationing on Cape Cod. Today however we have a mist.  And a dome of grey billowing clouds. The mellowness of the daylight accentuates the richness of the field crops and contrasts the trees that are beginning to change.

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Around the corner

Getting to and rounding a corner is seemingly the universal objective of living.  That at least is my perspective. There are no doubt those who consider life is unremarkably drifting along a stream, going to and ending wherever the current happens to flow or eddy. Indeed that particular view has some transcendental cogency; for as much as we prefer to fashion our behaviour as determinative it may by contrast be nothing more than intuitive (whatever enlarged or exoteric meaning that may have) though perhaps at times as plainly illustrative (and equally stunning) as a squirrel preparing a nest. Life can by some account be summarized as little other than reaction to events or fulfillment of native appetites howsoever grand or intellectual they are touted or perceived to be.

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Along the country road

Forty-eight years ago I drove from the Mayfair apartment building where I was then living on the corner of Metcalfe Street and MacLaren Street in downtown Ottawa to the Mississippi Golf Club in the Village of Appleton where I dined with Messrs. Galligan & Sheffield, Barrs. &c. With what I imagine to have been the sanction of Senator George McIraith QC, Counsel, Macdonald, Affleck, Barrs. &c. at 100 Sparks Street, Ottawa where I had completed my Articles after graduating from Osgoode Hall in Toronto, I was hired by Messrs. Galligan & Sheffield in nearby Almonte to fill the gap left upon the retirement of Raymond A. Jamieson QC. The club house (both ancient and restored) of the golf club has forever since been part of my life.  Though I probably entered the golf club for the first time from Wilson Street off Hwy#29 (through Carleton Place) my preferred route of access to the club from Almonte where I have lived since that day has always been along the bucolic Appleton Side Road.

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Such is life!

Such is life!  What an ambiguous observation. It shouldn’t however complicate the matter any more than it already is because since Aristotle the definition of life has been concluded as either hugely various or totally impossible.

Life is a quality that distinguishes matter that has biological processes, such as signaling and self-sustaining processes, from matter that does not. It is defined descriptively by the capacity for homeostasis, organisation, metabolism, growth, adaptation, response to stimuli, and reproduction. All life over time eventually reaches a state of death, and none is immortal. Many philosophical definitions of living systems have been proposed, such as self-organizing systems.

If it helps, the definition of death is similarly ambitious though equally equivocal. In the end, no matter what the event, we can only metaphorically raise our hands and part their grasp to include all possibility of description. The intent is either to include or omit whatever we may have anticipated or believe to have foreseen. In reality however we haven’t a clue about where it all came from or where it goes.

Life is simply a mystery. The best we can hope for is a comfortable accommodation of whatever transpires. We have formulated a multitude of ways to do so but we have at the same time proven than none of them is guaranteed to achieve its objective.

Nonetheless there remains a certain utility in the abbreviated assertion, “Such is life!” The Cambridge dictionary provides its own definition: namely, “used to refer to an event that has happened and that you must accept, because you know that this is the way life is”. This is hardly an explanation of much depth. It merely reiterates that if something happens, then it happened.  To pretend otherwise is patently ludicrous. It does however enfold the reality in the guise of acceptance which is interestingly an emotional content that goes beyond the empirical reality. This I believe most accurately captures the meaning of the phrase; namely, acceptance.

Acceptance in this context is frequently advanced as a last resort or at least some sort of palliative for an otherwise bad situation.

But acceptance is as often the source of considerable contribution and improvement. It can by contrast be indicative of insight rather than enigma or, what is more likely, overt avoidance. It is a reminder that ignorance is often an obstacle or obstruction to understanding and community or cooperation. Pronouncing, “Such is life!” need not be a bad thing or a submission. It may also be a celebration.

We all know that whatever the interpretation it will in no way change the truth of the adage. Living our life is not an alternative. Certainly how we live life may make a difference; but it will never change the ultimate conclusion, “Such is life!” That too may be another message with the simplified text; namely, get on with it. “Such is life!” is but a summary preamble to whatever our next step along this mystical path of life will be.

What a day!

I’m exhausted!  Je suis complètement épuisé. Like Maggie Muggins of yore, we’ve had quite a day.

Maggie Muggins was a Canadian children’s radio and television series which began on-air live as a fifteen-minute program on CBC Radio on New Year’s Day, 1947. The highly popular radio program engaged children’s imaginations, with its continuing cast of unique animal puppets and human characters. Maggie Muggins moved to CBC Television to air between September 29, 1955, and June 27, 1962.

The original Maggie Muggins, who performed the role throughout its run on CBC Radio, was Beryl Braithwaite (later Beryl Hart), eldest daughter of the freelance writer and novelist Max Braithwaite. Beryl was ten years old when the series began. Maggie’s signature sign-off was “I don’t know what will happen tomorrow.”

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When will it all end?

I paused today as though amid the mirth of adolescence along the sidewalk on a shaded part of Spring Street below the big maple tree now burnished with autumn to chat with Robbie, a man whose mettle is corrupted by the acid of time but who nonetheless shines with all the more brilliance and lustre. He is the reincarnation of my youth, those happy days when life was “easy under the apple boughs”. We both wistfully recalled some distant memories.

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A glorious day!

There was a car accident today at the intersection of Hazeldean Road and Carp Road in Stittsville.  A small car was half-way through the intersection pointing northwards on the Carp Road.  Its front end was mutilated, seemingly having collided with by an SUV traveling eastward on Hazeldean Road. The SUV was through the light but turned onto its passenger side adjacent the sidewalk on the southerly edge of Hazeldean Road. There was obvious damage but no evidence of catastrophic injury. The police cruisers (at least four of them) were everywhere, lights flashing, blocking regular passage.

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