Sedentary Sunday

We haven’t often the occasion on Key Largo to lament the weather. Given the mere particles of rain drops thus far today I am uncertain whether a complaint qualifies; rather the modification may be no more offensive than ambivalence. Nonetheless the variance is sufficient to inspire a remarkable number of reconstructions from the ritual resplendence of dazzling brilliance from within a cloudless azure dome.

As for the expression of this unique model I am once again today indebted to the young man whom I have seen on television advertising Keepsakes (the App for on-line ordering of picture frames). Picture frames have always been for me a critical part of interior decoration. My former law office was equipped with a vast number and divergence of picture frames, some of which I inherited along with the artwork of my predecessor R. A. Jamieson QC, some of which bound the antiques I expropriated from my parents’ basement, many of which were expertly bespoke. Indeed in our small community we were blessed to have supremely competent retail picture framing services at hand; namely, MacLean Young Picture Framers, 89 Mill Street, Almonte and Philip K. Wood Gallery, 58 Mill Street, Almonte. Many of these picture frames have, I am pleased to say, made their way uninterrupted into the safe keeping of the North Lanark Regional Museum in the Village of Appleton.

Another singular feature of this tranquil Christian Sabbath is the swell of concern surrounding our upcoming departure for the season and return to Canada for the summer and autumn. The first element to insinuate the prospect arose on our otherwise normal mission to the local grocery store late this morning.  Already we have begun narrowing the necessity of olive oil, vinegar and other additives. Then too we may have been imagining things, but it appeared that the parking lot at the grocery store was greatly diminished from its usual activity.  Could this spell the evaporation already of people as we approach the end of March? My prediction Рthough without any particular foundation Рis that as we stretch our time towards the end of April, activity will really begin to dissolve.

Meanwhile Mrs. C and I (along with Francis the Cyclist) entertained ourselves during our athletic outings this afternoon (walking, cycling and tricycling) with the exchange of witticisms (what I now define as the language of the languid). There appeared to be few people by the three pools – though there was a small but comparatively riotous group at the island pool. A number of people were walking their dogs. But overall the atmosphere was subdued.

We punctuated our usual mundanity by hosing down the car in the nearby outdoor area.