Today is November 1st, the start of our new residential tenancy at Riverfront Estates of which Peter Mansfield is the vaunted architect. The occasion, conjoining as it does the awakening of the newly constructed building to its intended purpose, is not without its moment. The cutting of a red ribbon by a municipal official to memorialize this astronomic local success would not have been incongruous. It is well understood by those following this particular venture that it surpasses expectations. The insinuation of local capital is an additional cause for officiation.

Around 8:30 am this morning we rallied as scheduled with Property Manager Kim and Superintendent Jared, both of whom were exceedingly professional and uncommonly reserved considering the electric atmosphere. The vibrancy in the air was palpable. The building, while certainly developed to a highly promising stage, is nonetheless currently encumbered by an elevator strike, COVID related delays and all the usual outfitting challenges surrounding door locks, key fobs and internet connectivity.  For our part we expressed our limited proprietary interest by touring the subterranean parking garage and seizing upon parking space #35 for our own future use. When we were scoping the parking garage there were several others there doing likewise.

Upstairs on the second floor we were earlier treated to a vitalizing tour of our corner unit apartment, everything brand new top to bottom, all reflected accurately by the diagrammatic floor plan. We flatter ourselves to imagine that we have a judicious idea where to place most of our furnishings though we acknowledge we may have to purchase a smaller square dining table to replace our current longer rectangular model. We’ve even settled upon the location of our two largest rugs. What we ungrudgingly agree upon is the breath-taking upriver view from the drawing room and master bedroom. It is thus that I intend to place my writing desk adjacent a perspective window to afford myself this panorama beyond description. Already my iPhone camera is itching to tackle the views, dramas yet to be unfolded with the strategically setting sun guaranteed to glisten upon the entrancing water of the Mississippi River.

Pending our formal move of furnishings tomorrow morning we continue to linger at the Riverside Boutique Hotel on Mill St adjacent the identical river. It is a curious indolence.  We quite literally have nothing better to do than sip coffee, read and write. We are unrepentantly killing time. The only relieving exception was my attendance this afternoon at the office of a local solicitor to review an Inter Vivos Trust Agreement and its possible ramifications arising as the result of a non-resident trustee and the imputation of a holdback amount upon disposition of the settlor’s principal residence. The analysis conducted by me and the other solicitor is illustrative of the adage, “If you want someone to sign something, put it on one page; otherwise they will feel obliged to read it!” The concept of a trust is for the uninitiated a weedy passage. I am obliged to accept part of the blame for the complication because it appears effectively to have taken ten pages to say what could have been said in one paragraph.  That of course is an absurd condemnation but it illustrates the undesirability of the fiduciary role; it’s not exactly a legal fiction but certainly an esoteric declaration.