Good Friday 2019

Today was by any account miserable. It was cold and rainy.  After a prolonged primarily indolent morning - including a late but hearty breakfast of steel cut oats ornamented with banana slices, walnuts and raisins washed down with strong, black coffee - and after having digested as much as able to be endured of JS Bach's St. John Passion - we resolved to overcome the dreary weather by going to Burnstown in Renfrew County.  Before however we made it out the apartment I spied an empty plastic container on the bench near the front door. It was the vessel in which our recent dinner guest had delivered a very satisfactory homemade pesto. The package was now empty and cleaned.  It invited the opportunity to drive to the Village of Ashton to return it.

Though upon our arrival in Village of Ashton the Laird of the Manor was absent, we were predictably greeted by the resident hound with accustomed favour. The usual conflict ensued regarding custody of the tennis ball, both sides making occasional and politic concessions to preserve reciprocity and amusement.

Our trip to the hinterland was entirely profitable.  Neat Café was open for business though the clientele was sparse.  We enjoyed pleasant chats with the owner and the barista in addition to coffee and a sweet. Today's visit to the Madawaska Valley will no doubt be the first of many to follow.  The jaunt through the Village of Pakenham (over the 5-span stone bridge crossing the roaring Mississippi River), and then meandering through tiny Waba and and quaint White Lake was heartening. As grey as they were, the surrounding fields summoned the exuberance of spring and summer that is to follow.

Meanwhile the deluge reached epic proportions. Certain of the nearby rural roads were closed presumably as the result of flooding. Nonetheless we solemnly concurred that we're more than a little happy to back in Lanark County.  To streamline the effervescence I constrained myself to quell any vexation by recollecting the paramount detail.