Precisely 7 days from now – Saturday – we leave. This morning we began preliminaries of our long, slow descent to Canada, an anticipated journey from here of three nights and four days. Already we have dinner reservations along the way; and, we have targeted places to have the car washed. Early this morning after my constitutional breakfast of steel cut oats, berries, prunes and fruit, pecan slices, maple syrup and yoghurt I tricycled around Lands End then along S Sea Pines Dr and back for a total of 6.12 Kms. This final matutinal repetition kicked off the impending absorption.

Immediately upon my return to the cottage, we together arranged the return of the tricycle (complete with lock) to South Beach Cycle. Although we advised the attendant of possible need of tuning of the brakes, the intelligence was most likely redundant. The tricycle, although satisfactory for my old fogey needs, was not in the best state of repair.  I endured the persistent squeaking and other assortment of minor malfunctions, reasoning that if the tyres were inflated and the seat did not rotate unnecessarily, all else was tolerable. Only once did I venture onto the beach with the tricycle.  I doubt the fine sand corrupted the gears because I never rode that quickly. On balance the device is commendable.

The next requisite visit after having returned the tricycle was of course the car wash.  Oddly, though the pedestrian walkways this morning were exceptionally busy with walkers and cyclists, the car wash was only moderately occupied.  It may be an indication that tourists are just arriving today, commencing their weekly or monthly sojourn, and have not yet purchased a car wash sticker.  Accordingly as we entered the wash line-up, unobstructed, we exchanged a cheery greeting with Jay, the chap who had initiated my ticket upon arrival on Hilton Head Island last January. Tomorrow, when we intend to go for lunch on Wm. Hilton Pkwy, will mark the final day of our daily car wash entitlement (pointedly on March 24th). Thereafter we shall be at liberty to address only our personal exigencies prior to final exodus from the island. Given the preponderance of activity on the path this morning, I don’t mind saying that we’re content (as we always have been at this time of year) to spring from our cottage nest and tackle instead the arrow but steady roadway north to Canada.

There is however one further matter to address prior to our departure; that is, apart from readying the car and packing our things.  Dearest Carolina of SC has expressed an interest in reviewing this particular cottage with the intent perhaps of arranging a stay here next autumn. She has remarked upon our approbation of the estate agency (though parenthetically we noted the place is already rented for the month of October next).  There may however be other possibilities open to her. It is not the first time she has perched at Lands End.

I propose to languish unabashedly throughout the remaining week on Hilton Head Island.  Instead of prompting myself to exercise or sit in the sun, I shall devote myself to complete indolence, perhaps with a regular injection of caffeine.  No doubt I shall as well spend time each day composing another trifling account of my equally exiguous occupation.  It is by any assessment a much need catharsis, an expiation of all that plagues me whether rightly or wrongly.  I have concluded after considerable misinterpretation and hesitation that I suffer a degree of instability, shall I say psychosis which causes imbalance.  The admission, strangely enough, is its own unwitting remedy. I hasten to add that the literary manufacture quells the confession demonstrably.  I suspect too that the admission is enhanced by its relief from disguise or obstruction.  Never have I thought of myself as “letting it all hang out!” but the moderate industry affords some measure of disclosure and commensurate reassurance.

I have as well with uncommon abandon filtered my mind to imagine that the return to terra firma will constitute untold satisfaction. Daily I am reminded of the unqualified familiarity of home, the sensation that being on settled ground will afford a measure of relaxation and relief from costume of any description or application. The transparency and moderation of the projection is somewhat enabled by the prospect of an upcoming federal election which, like my own inner consternation, will by chance often include a reference to the unbridled evolution of American politics and its disgorging social vapour. The innuendo from Mark Carney (Liberal, Nepean Ward) is that new horizons of contractual and capital involvement await in the wings.  For the first time in my life I am witness to a growing distance between America and Canada; the strategic snapping of the fingers at Trump and his impolite suggestion of annexation.

So many ventures are lining up to the starting line here as we prepare to advance our own progress there.