We shall retire deeper into the country late this afternoon and direct ourselves along Upper Dwyer Hill Road onto McCaffrey Trail in the Village of Ashton for a festive family muster at my erstwhile physician’s country seat.  In reflective anticipation of the event during the early morning hours today there was thunder and lightening announcing the arrival of warmer air, humidity and sunny conditions to complement the foregathering. It shall no doubt include a ritual plunge and refreshment in the swimming pool in the meadow before dining.

Today is the central portion of the holiday weekend.  I am uniquely celebrating the carnival atmosphere of the sabbatical by listening to the French radio channel of the CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) which predictably features what, in my instinctive musical reaction, are denominated high-spirited and mellifluous selections. It pleases me on occasions such as this to succumb to the persuasion of universality. Frankly I normally react less favourably to commonality. But when, as in this instance, I consider the overwhelming and incomparable unity and beauty of the wavering field of thousands of lush green plants in the nearby field and the uninterrupted majesty of the flowing placid river, it is near impossible not to embrace the burgeoning gusto of compromise and balance in the festive air.

Nor does it require a keen eye to notice the proliferation of signs about the countryside announcing upcoming seasonal fairs and festivals to mark the end of summer and the advent of the harvest. The traditional celebration of what has transpired and of what is about to happen is not an uncommon devotion upon the transition from one characteristic to another.  Today’s event for example will include not only what I predict to be ample discussion of the young grandchildren visiting from Australia but also the shortly upcoming birthday of their mother (the daughter of our host).  Commingled with that domestic absorption and evolution are as likely to be enquiries concerning on-going romantic associations, expected world travel, possibly reducing even to questions of employment and investment.

A congregation of flesh and blood, kinsmen and connections is guaranteed to evoke substantial colloquial retail. Given the notable history of the family for world affairs I have no doubt too that the frothy subject of politics will percolate at table. Once again I am reminded of the late Raymond Algernon Jamieson, QC (my predecessor in the practice of law) who early in our acquaintance remarked to my entire surprise at the time that he was consumed by American politics. Half a century later I recognize the almost pathological allure of what was once perceived a Canadian oddity and fully accept its current attraction and deviation from strictly national household drama and supremacy.  The on-going and indisputably colourful political exploits of our American neighbours will I am certain constitute a specific subject of enquiry this evening among the international clansmen. A worldly composition is forecast.

For the moment, on the threshold of this impending buoyancy, I distract myself to consider, contract and elongate the recovery and regimentation of my mind. The context is no more instructive than revisiting what for me are captivating details of my modest being. Though my performance and amusements are by any standard less than enthralling they nonetheless succeed to afford me the equivalence of a model train set or a fast car or a diamond ring. Neither my perceptions nor my ambitions are distinguished by acclaim; yet their constitution is for me fascinating. Clarity of construction; precision of instrumentation; strength of manufacture. These are all elements of my life and my mind, equally malleable by nature and condition; similarly static and unwittingly inconvenient; likewise hardened and unchangeable, at times bordering on old fashioned and out-of-date.

I am looking forward to our evening congregation.