The enthusiasm which precedes a dinner invitation from my erstwhile physician at his country estate in the nearby Village of Ashton is palpable. We accelerated and amplified the avidity by first having collected another of the dinner guests to accompany us to the rural resort. On the drive there we shared animated tales and reminders of past spirited events together. We were however not the only long-standing friends of the family in attendance. As I remarked at one point throughout the evening as we dined in the inexpressible summer ambience, a number of us have in the past dined together as far abroad as Rome, Sardegna, Montepulciano, Siesta Key and of course at our own residence in the Town of Almonte and also at private dinner parties in public venues in the city.

The nutritional gusto was enhanced by a relieving swim in the pool in the meadow before putting on the nosebag at table. I particularly relished the occasion to paddle about in the refreshing water as it diminished the aches and pains normally tagging along with old age.  Meanwhile my erstwhile physician’s son and I entertained one another with a succession of playful parries and jabs. And bravado regarding his latest haircut. He also informed us that his sister and her husband in Australia are soon expecting another child whom hopefully one day we may add to our list of familial connections which currently descend from grandparents over a period close to forty years and now covers a breadth of the globe extending from Greece to South Africa to the South Pacific Ocean.

I am reluctant to opine upon the evening’s menu because I haven’t any acute culinary skills.  I will however report that everything was outstanding and from what I saw of the numerous plates at table there were nothing but crumbs and morsels that lingered upon the porcelain as evidence of the gastronomy.

Eventually the mosquitoes got the best of us in spite of a very clever arrangement of candles beneath the dining table on the deck overlooking the meadow.  When we removed ourselves indoors for the sweet course, I chose the opportunity to play the piano.  The reception was exceedingly generous. I have for another while succeeded to dilute my constantly erupting desire to play the piano (though I willingly confess my limitations as my repetition approaches being tarsome).

Whether it were the red or white wine, or the balmy air or golden evening sunshine on the distant hanging willows, the conversation at table soon blended from travel, business and matters culinary to the more delicate subject of relationships and related contractual alignments. I don’t wish to arouse uncertain speculation but the native accumulation of amorous content was as barefaced as each of the other delights characterizing our summer evening’s congress.

We left the premises late in the evening amidst clamours of joy and affection!