There are so many ways to say what one means. Among them is the reply I heard today when I asked of a Floridian acquaintance whether, on the heels of a recent technological misfire, I might take the liberty of reactivating her subscription to my Substack account. She said, “I enjoy reading your perspective.” This, I think you’ll agree, readily falls within the scope of democratic, diplomatic and enigmatic. Yet while there is ample room for obfuscation and misinterpretation, I have chosen instead to adopt what I believe to be the more fruitful pattern of conclusion; namely, to crawl to the extent of accepting the equivocation once offered. And not to press the point to inalterable tedium.

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Though I attach no magic to the performance, the Gibbous moon marked the commencement of the alternate phase of the upcoming American presidential election as Joe Biden stood down from the race.

gibbous adjective (of the moon) having the observable illuminated part greater than a semicircle and less than a circle. • convex or protuberant: gibbous eyes

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Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes

Fern Hill, Dylan Thomas

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Lately there has been a lot of talk and scathing obloquy about the nauseating and reputedly obsequious men and women who have, in the process of protecting their own political and financial career, effectively changed the face and substance of the Republican political party of the United States of America. The GOP (Grand Old Party) was at one time the home of choice for the conventionally minded predominantly white capitalist who has a position in society to inflate or perpetuate. Elon Musk is a member.

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The spectacle of Trump and his caravan of weirdo cronies such as Matt Gaetz, Jim Jordan, Lindsey Graham, Marco Rubio, Marjorie Taylor Greene, Lauren Boebert, JD Vance, Nikki Haley and Ted Cruz continues to afford a record display of parasitic obsequiousness which is unfailingly extraordinary (to the level of a cartoon) by virtue of its collective and universal patent disregard of fact.  The relevance of truth in the upcoming federal election in the United States of America has long ago evaporated.  The contest now is one only of presentation, not unlike a high school debate such as, “Be it RESOVED THAT Little Red Riding Hood is a sexual myth”. Winning is the only objective.  And the Republicans have made that very clear.

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Late this morning on the occasion of what I believe qualifies as one of the scheduled semi-annual conference calls with our financial advisor Stephen Brown, B.Com. (Honours), CFA®, CFP®, CIM®, FCSI® of BMO Nesbitt Burns (613-562-6533), we were reminded in a decidedly and winning professorial manner of the coincidence of everything upon the stock market. Over the period of an hour, Brown methodically reviewed the changing face of the stock market and included throughout pointed (and intermittently detailed) references to the effect of politics, democracy and oligarchy, wars, immigration, birth rate, religion, pandemic, nationalism, isolationism, accounting practices and of course the weather.

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Shortly before ten o’clock this morning we pushed off to the golf club in the Village of Appleton for breakfast.  Last evening I had sent an email to Chef Wendy MacDonald specifying our intention to do so; and she had thoughtfully replied that all was in order. I prefer to ensure we are not colliding with a scheduled clubhouse event. When we arrived we were set on the outdoor patio at an umbrella table overlooking the fairway.

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Who isn’t awakened by something new!  Today – two days ahead of schedule – my new prescription sunglasses arrived at Heritage Optometric Clinic on Lansdowne Avenue in Carleton Place. I was sent an early morning email notification to which I instantly responded. And as quickly I was able to arrange an appointment to collect them this afternoon.

It has been years since I have purchased a new pair of prescription sunglasses. The reason has nothing to do with sunglasses. Nor has it anything to do with economy.  Instead the disinclination arises from the lenses of both my eyes having been replaced several years ago.  The expectation at the time of the surgery (which proved correct) was that I would have 20/20 distance vision but still be required to have reading glasses.  As a result I ended purchasing a variety of sunglasses off the shelf without any prescription because predominantly I used sunglasses for driving or when cycling.  I could thus bear the deprivation of a prescription for distance or magnification for reading.

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Last evening following our exceedingly healthful seasonal dinner of assorted vegetables and mixed bean salad we lingered into the twilight and the mosquitoes upon the balcony overlooking the pastures and the gentle river. It is a hardship to withdraw from the summertime perfection in mid-July. The balmy air from the south completed the idyllic ambience. We departed the heavy black plastic armchairs on the balcony after having positioned them appropriately for our next visit, a sculpture set as a surviving reminder of the sublimity.

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