Toddling along

The 1 mL syringe portion of THC 20:20 Cannabis Oil I took under my tongue late yesterday afternoon while sitting at my desk, reading, writing and complacently regarding the very pleasant upriver view, stimulated as well the delectation of the subsequent evening meal. But it had also a persuasive soporific effect. I was in bed by nine. I hadn’t any reservation about the propriety of an early retirement because I had been up at 6:00 am that morning. So I felt I had earned the entitlement to excuse myself from the sentient ambience of the apartment as it quelled its daytime brightness with the softened lamp lights reflected upon the precious Persians. I tried reading Thomas Babington Macaulay’s History of England from the accession of James II but I kept nodding off.

The History of England from the Accession of James the Second (1848) is the full title of the five-volume work by Lord Macaulay (1800–1859) more generally known as The History of England. It covers the 17-year period from 1685 to 1702, encompassing the reign of James II, the Glorious Revolution, the co-regency of William III and Mary II, and up to William III‘s death.

As a result of this clean living (and the very ample and exceptionally tasty meal of freshly made vegetable soup, sprouted whole grain bread with avocado oil, fruit combo for dessert and the smallest bit of apple cider donut from Beckwith Kitchen) I slumbered throughout the night until early this morning. Though I shamefully hesitated to eject myself from under the duvet until eight o’clock this morning, I reasoned that, for a sunny Saturday morning, I had arisen at a respectable hour. Accordingly I casually attended to the customary breakfast composition while transitioning to full attention to the day’s agenda.

First imperative was a bicycle ride. His Lordship had already vacated the apartment to do just that. I followed suit though I confess the circumference of my athleticism was by comparison limited. I most certainly didn’t make it anywhere near the Village of Appleton (reportedly as he had done); rather I confined my dalliance to the neighbourhood, along the river and nearby circular drives, 5.47 Km. I paused along the way to exchange current intelligence with Gerry Coleman.

Upon my return to the apartment we prepared to make a short trip to Mark’s clothing store in Carleton Place. This objective grew to include a car wash in Stittsville, a dip into Farm Boy grocery store and a collection of (cheesecake) Key Lime pies from Beckwith Kitchen. Driving my 2022 Lincoln Aviator (with 27,000 Km) provoked a number of reflections and considerations. It appears to be certain that this year I shall not be purchasing a new replacement automobile. The dealership has provided no further explanation of the failure of Lincoln to deliver the Corsair PHEV I had ordered last October. In light of the uncomplimentary things I have read about the Corsair on the internet and the absence of anything by way of explanation from the dealership I am inclined to accept the overwhelming distance I am sensing. There is nothing in either the Lincoln or Cadillac lineups which especially draw me. I believe we’re in the throes of a significant change of automobiles to electrification; and meanwhile the old models are perishing.

As if to augment my removal from the habitual material preoccupation, this morning I removed my jewellery (gold rings and necklace) in anticipation of my upcoming surgery. Admittedly there is an element of singularity attaching to unadorned existence. I have for years defended my absorption in automobiles as the refinement I perceive in the management of a smoothly operating mechanism. I likewise derive incalculable pleasure examining a fine watch or well-made trinket (such as my Mont Blanc keychain). Jewellery is no different. But as one prepares to depart this universe the boundaries of former intrigue become diminished, at least to the point of settling for what one already possesses.

Definition is a changeable image. Certainly by moving here we have distinguished ourselves as part of Almonte’s latest expression. I am always proud to report that Peter Mansfield is the architect of the building. And from what I have learned and overheard the ownership is predominantly local as well. In a chat we had with another resident earlier today he indicated there had been a number of minor construction issues which had arisen. And apparently there is some accommodation required for the heat pump system that operates throughout. I view these matters as predictable in any new construction.  It will require a year or more to conclude these annoyances. For my part I am content to dwell upon the exceptionally tranquil scene upriver.