There is nothing wrong with a bland day. In fact I rather enjoy a bland day because it memorializes everything else, from putting on one’s socks to relishing the soft hues and the spiky trees of the distant minor vale by the river. What, I ask, can be more fulfilling than rejoicing in the pleasure of seeing and doing what is at hand! It is a relief from urgency and projection plus of course the adjoining lack of compulsive necessity. It is the gratification of one’s pertinency.

Like many other creatures we cultivate a nest. There survives in spite of constant mobility the ambition to go home. I have had a great number of homes in my lifetime many of which were by design temporary (such as those throughout my years of education). It was a decided singularity for me to have landed in Almonte and stayed here for 48 years. I derive immeasurable satisfaction from having done so. There was a brief moment when we contemplated instead a condominium on the St. Lawrence River but Almonte won us over hands down in spite of the limited contest.

Though I know the geography here well, I must however note the decline of people whom I know here.  Frankly, many of them have simply died. Though it is a reminder to be thankful for every day, it nonetheless astonishes me how soon the list of one’s acquaintances diminishes. Those who remain within my sphere are predominantly my age or older which naturally restrains any regularity of social gathering. Plus my immobility restricts activity of almost any kind. Getting to the bathroom is a challenge.

Nonetheless the occasional visit to the local coffee shop affords the opportunity to resuscitate some of that erstwhile conviviality. It is a custom which we ignored for the past decade when travelling abroad for longer periods of time.  Now we have revitalized our interest in the matter. There is no denying that the vitality of residency derives from association with others. Living in an apartment building provides a chance to enlarge one’s social conventions. We have as well friends living throughout the County; and, family in the City.

But the contrary admission is that one cannot perpetually engage in social gathering. Thus it is that one welcomes the bland day, a time for nestling comfortably into the corner of one’s domain, perhaps with a glass of sherry and a good book.