What’s next?

Likely we’re more vivacious about crowning our trifling domestic duties (now that we’re back on home turf) than warranted. It was after all only last Thursday, less than a week ago, that we landed upon our personal territory from the radically ridden United States of America. Yet we have been overcome by what is a moral imperative and an admitted passion for reconciliation. The zestfulness is fed by the incremental energy arising from the consummation of each step along the way. As a matter of record the proceedings have been marked by distinct accomplishments relating in particular to our shift from our former habitat at Jamieson Mills across the river to new digs at Riverfront Estates. Some of the strokes have been less than triumphant but each has progressively advanced our synthesis with the Canadian environment, even to the point today for example of reconnoitring at the Smiths Falls hospital on Cornelia Street West with a scandalously young anaesthetist Dr. Thomas Gutcher regarding my upcoming left knee surgery on May 24th with Dr. Mark Roberts.

Being the avowed curmudgeon that I am, it pleases me to report that the bedside manner of both specialist physicians is notable and estimable. I was for years spoiled by my erstwhile physician. I have consequently always hesitated to presume that the younger medical fraternity is as enthusiastically committed. The recent quack involvements are however welcome contradiction.

This otherwise dreamy narrative about the fulfillment of life’s boundless achievements and successful brotherhood with professional advisers has paradoxically encountered a sobering and entirely unanticipated complication. The fire alarm in our new apartment suddenly began screeching! When one is poking about in loose-fitting late afternoon costume with only socks upon one’s feet, the astronomic ascent of a fire alarm is decidedly disruptive. This is especially so this afternoon after having just returned to the apartment, rejoicing in the booming performance of our calculated agenda.

How ironic life is!  In an instant all was turned upon its head. We were to a degree assuaged by the knowledge, upon leaving the apartment and heading to the stairwell, that the fire alarm was active only in our apartment; that is, the alarm was not pervasive throughout the building. This for the moment did little more than isolate the frustration to our private domain.

As might be expected our instinctive first contact in this moment of distress was the Inverness Homes supervisory manager Jared Laginski.  We apparently interrupted Jared  en route in nearby Kemptville.  He was as always rational, polite and controlled amidst our flourishing agitation. Nonetheless this awakening obstruction (which we speculate might be related to water damage immediately above the study) comes on the heels of what has been a persistent annoyance with the heating/cooling system whereby we have as yet been unable to identify the source of a ticking or electric lawn mower sound emanating from the HVAC mechanisms. And all this within mere days of having occupied the apartment for the first time upon our return to Canada on Thursday, April 27th last. We assumed the contractual obligation for payment of the tenancy since November 1st, 2022 but it was only on November 2nd last that we were permitted to have our movers deliver our things to the new apartment because of some other hindrance, and even on November 2nd the elevator did not work so our movers transported everything up the stairs instead. When left as planned for Key Largo, FL at noon on November 2nd, never once having occupied the apartment until now. As a result it has all made for a concise unfavourable estimate of the building apart from the incomparable view I now enjoy from my desk.

We are now preparing for the attendance of Jared once again, this time at 8:00 AM tomorrow morning. This was not exactly the way we had hoped to initiate our tenancy. Nor have we yet any assurance that resolution awaits.