Car drive in the country

No matter where on earth one finds oneself It is an inexpressible delight to awaken in the morning to the start of a new sunshiny day. Of course we all know we need rain.  But a blue sky with puffs of white clouds are so immediately stimulating and encouraging. Trouble evaporates. Obligation too. The pleasure this morning was further augmented by having hit the hay last night at 11:00 pm which is early enough to allow the statutory 8-hours without threat of abusing the morning, late enough to encourage a prompt dormancy. And apparently I profited from both; namely, I fell asleep without any lingering or disruptive anxieties, and I awoke precisely as the grandfather clock clanged eight o’clock fully rested and ready to greet the day.

We are well fed.  I interject this superfluity to authenticate my perhaps inadvisable decision to go for a tricycle ride before having eaten breakfast. Two things. First, I wasn’t hungry. Second, knowing – as I am certain you do as well – that “the best sauce for any meal is an appetite”, I felt it prudent fully to recover from the strength of last evening’s bountiful meal before tucking into the steel cut oats and fruit. In the meantime I was satisfied to ponder the jar of crunchy peanut butter. Accordingly, once having completed my ritual ablutions and donned fresh clothing (and all that that entails), I set off about the glistening neighbourhood for my predominantly therapeutic tricycle ride.  Athleticism is not really part of my vocabulary (though I did struggle enough to pedal up the ramp, successfully I might add). Already the numerous dog owners (with every variety of dog) were fulfilling their own morning constitutional; as were the predictably enthusiastic gardeners (one noticeably sporting yet a different hat).

I am always curious about the nature of what, if anything, I shall give or receive by way of morning greeting to the passers-by. The tonality of the words is important.  Some pedestrians and cyclists are caught in their own world.  Getting anything from them beyond a gruff-sounding, matte-tailored and flattened “Morning!” is unlikely.  Others by contrast – not the least of whom are the young and rising children – launch an audibly gleeful message and proclamation of the day, “Morning!” the bounce and tonal shifts of which exude a positive instruction. Some of course prefer not to alter the focus of their vision and thus guarantee the obstruction of both sight and sound. I confess those people cause me to mutter to myself. I am forever jaundiced by the character of those who will not look you in the eye; it speaks volumes beyond which the dimensions are incalculable. It does however inspire some colourful ejaculations on my part (I say this remorsefully naturally).

Upon returning home I addressed what little communication I normally receive though in this instance there was an item not from a Chinese newspaper (to which I subscribe) but from a freelance American writer. As might be expected the sole topic lately conjoined with American is either Trump or anti-Trump. His was the latter. I responded though without conviction, knowing that what tripe I say has already been said before; and, there was nothing new.

To give you an idea of the absorption of what I am saying, everything I have related so far (that is, getting up, showering, getting dressed, going for a tricycle ride, unbraiding pedestrians, ruminating upon Americans and sitting in the sun on the balcony for 25 minutes) was concluded before noon. I know this for a fact because it is at noon that I take my second round of analgesics for the day, specifically Tylenol Arthritis. This agenda I accept as a small compliment.  First, it means this is all I have to do (that alone is a condemnation); second, yes, I have been told that I have an extraordinarily broad capacity for making the most of an inconsequential event (or words to that effect).

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Perhaps because it is a Thursday approaching the end of the month and the start of summer on a perfectly magnificent day (which is to say, I haven’t a clue), the traffic on the road was negligible. The 4-cylinders operated smoothly; the lights and bells worked; the lumbar, bolster and massage functioned; the alignment was good. And I had all the windows and the landau roof open.  I mean, what more is there!  Now that’s what I’m talking about. Driving is my space.