It is Thanksgiving weekend.  By late afternoon today – Saturday – as I smugly returned home from my leisurely constitutional automotive meander into Renfrew County, the country roads were fairly sparse apart from the occasional swirl of falling leaves. As a reformed boozer with all the gusto of a newly endorsed Christian, I maliciously conceptualized that the gentry had already retired to the drawing room and were greedily sipping the first of a succession of shots of blended whiskey from crystal tumblers. Such a warm and powerful image on a blustery autumn day! The day had not however begun as agreeably.

Not long after awakening this morning we discovered that the water knob of the shower did not work. Indeed it did work – but not in a good way; namely, we could not get it to stop working. The water – hot or cold – poured from its spout. This may initially sound to be a trite obstruction if one presumes we had any idea at all about how to turn off the water supply. We did not. We called the Board of Directors and screamed for help! By the exceedingly prompt direction and assistance of the President we terminated the supply of water. It was though a universal stoppage. No water supply in the kitchen nor the second bathroom. In an instant we were reduced from the marvel of modernity to the scantiness of a Nomad.

After calling a number of plumbers listed on the internet – including the chap to whom we had first mentioned the looming problem last week – our initial contact had the courtesy to return our plaintive calls. You’re no doubt having a good belly laugh at our predicament to locate a plumber on a Saturday afternoon on Thanksgiving weekend. And you would of course be correct to do so. But such is the benefit of country living that we were soon rewarded with professional attention and reversal of the dilemma (though not I might add without its own complications along the way).

Rejuvenated by this wedge of intelligence – and thinking that late Saturday afternoon on Thanksgiving weekend might be an ideal time to shop for groceries – I wandered into our local supplier. I was immediately awash with social catharsis. I am embarrassed to admit I welcomed the vicarious acquaintance. Perhaps I imagined it only but everyone in the store seemed festive. Manners appeared to abound among the roller Derby crowd. It propelled me into my own festive mood. Tomorrow we’ve been invited to a family gathering. I was that close to buying fuzzy Teddy bears but opted instead for Italian straw cookies.