When I returned home today around 1:30 pm following my customary purgative car wash, I seated myself at the drawing room desk prospective the meadow and river. The view was magnificent! This morning before breakfast I had moderately Rebounded for 1.42 minutes and afterwards tolerably bicycled out-of-doors for 2.86 Km. Thus comfortably seated and purged of guilt I warmed to the outlook of what had lately become an ideal afternoon ceremony.
There was a noticeable wind today, probably from the south judging by the agreeable outdoor temperature earlier. From my desk I saw on the balcony the flapping cover wrappped about the collapsible table and chairs set aside for the winter. It prompted me to open the balcony door to feel the wind and to cherish the cool air. I shall never cease to marvel at the fortuity of having scored this apartment. To have this wide bucolic and riparian panorama is an inexpressible luxury. And as rocketship comfortable as these modest digs are, the utility is undeniable!
It amuses me that I have lately come to consider my daily hit of espresso as both psychedelic and addictive. Indeed I have already reduced my habit of two cups to one cup. Which I know is a small compliment especially because to speak forthrightly one of my cups has already multiple hits of robust coffee pods. This so-called toxic abbreviation nonetheless has the advantage of diminishing the volume of liquid being swallowed; thus reducing the need to void one’s bladder. It’s the small things in life that count, shall I say? And really there is no other possible defence to my having said so in the first place!
So, that’s one thing about the ideal afternoon ceremony with the door ajar. One cup of strong black coffee. But already there’s a further detail (one which I believe is about to become imperative); and that is having the coffee chilled. I honestly don’t imagine that this mode of service is anywhere near the model. But somewhere in my wicked past I began to adopt the frigid constituent. Though I no longer have a morning coffee upon awakening, I find the afternoon cup of chilled coffee is perfectly acceptable in spite of being unpopular. I confess that if I were to order a chilled coffee at a coffee shop, I’d be wary that they’d simply fill a cup with ice. That just doesn’t make it, I’m sorry. To be pleasingly presented, the chilled coffee must have remained in its embryonic state in the ‘fridge overnight to permit complete application of the frozen animators.
To this one cup of strong black chilled coffee, I now customarily (which is to say, always) arrange a side plate of sliced green apple and generous pieces of 5-year old St. Albert cheddar cheese. This in my judgement is a Sacrament of Heaven! The only thing bad about it is that there never is enough! Parsimony however is part of the performance. Bearing in mind that the best sauce for any meal is an appetite, it is but an inconvenient obligation to restrain oneself. As soon as the aroma of the evening meal overtakes me, I shall reward myself for the Stoicism.
Mixed with the chilled coffee and fruit plate features of the ideal afternoon ceremony is often the editing of photos and always listening to music. I have elevated the hobbyist amusement of photography to the class of absolution because it absolves me of the time I spend so indolently. I as quickly remark that given my admission of decline I wouldn’t insult anyone to employ me for anything. My memory loss is as evident as my immobility. As for the photography sideline, I rejoice at what Apple has accomplished. That kind of technology is a real improvement in the way people can express themselves. We have already in three instances profited by the unwitting compositions, having them printed then framed. And with frames from the Dollar Store at around $1.50 each it’s difficult not to clap one’s hands with a smile.
Naturally keeping an account of this indolence and economic stratagem requires enormous concentration and capacity. Frequently it is assumed that talking about the present is an easy accomplishment because it’s always there to see. Which of course it is not. Instead in an instant the present becomes the past. And depending upon the strength of one’s synapses (or whatever it is in the brain that affects memory) it may or may not become critical whether a written account on a certain day were maintained. The curious thing about memory is that it often obscures the past; that is, the present can often be clearer than the past. For whatever that’s worth!
As a literary ingredient I have adopted the nutritious belief that currency and immediacy are found in the present. While it may be suitable for the adoption of any number of literary licences to enable truth to be polished or confounded, the unvarnished rendition of the truth is in my opinion preferable both rationally and artistically. There is no need to reduce the cause to vulgarity; the predominance of the straightforward present is a colourful depiction of life. Yet paradoxically it vanishes is such a flash that the ability to capture the moment is always admired.
Similarly enigmatic is the sound that Apple produces. Everything about their products is fantastic. The sound availability is an unquestionable boost about which I have spoken before; so I will content myself in this instance to a brief Hurrah!
Meanwhile the on-going issues surrounding Artificial Intelligence (AI) are daily in threat of overtaking the entertainment value of Donald J. Trump & Company. I am certain that every day the commanders of popular media and cable news shows secretly thank Mr. Trump for contributing to the value of their work. For my irrelevant part I will say only that I haven’t any more fear of the injurious capacity of AI than I have of an automobile. Nor do I believe either will ever outsmart us. But, not unlike AI and Donald Trump, it makes for good entertainment.