In preparation for a much anticipated communion with my local physician this morning, we arose from the lair and completed our ablutions early enough to afford time for a strategic jaunt to the golf club to put on the nosebag and quell the matutinal appetite. There was a degree of foresight that permeated the project because we were also expected not long afterwards at the spa for our biweekly manis and pedis. One must first devote attention to the savage yearnings prior to undertaking the redeeming beguilement.
Though nothing especially important turned upon the mostly routine congress with my physician this morning it nonetheless proved to be a more fortuitous segment than anticipated. He had in my absence pursued certain lingering issues, the results of which he shared with me to my growing delight. In addition to a new chemical toxin for arthritic pain he is also referring me to a neurosurgeon for a specialist's opinion regarding an annoying spinal matter. I willingly acceded to my predictable declension as an aging patient but naturally I welcomed the opportunity at least for further enquiry. My physician also agreed to fan the fires of the proposed laparoscopic surgery, the next significant item on my agenda.
Upon returning to the apartment following our cosmetic episode there were several postal communications to be dealt with - as always the monopoly of the financial people (bankers and insurers). I anxiously pursued these duties because I wanted to restore my equilibrium by going for a bicycle ride. First however I treated myself to a cup of strong coffee (employing a new selection of Nespresso's India "intense" coffee in the gem-coloured green pod).
Thus strengthened and propelled I collected my trusty Electra bicycle and headed along Country Street for a quiet kinship with the weather and wind. En route I passed PE whom I only hesitatingly recognized, not having seen or spoken with her for upwards of twenty years. A robust conversation ensued, peppered as one might expect with the customary enquiries about where one is living, how one's family and children are faring, whom we know in common and that sort of thing.
Before this reunion with my former acquaintance I had passed a gentlemen walking alongside the country road. He was collecting debris along the road. He carried with him a stick with a mechanical tong and a bag partially fully of refuse. Though I did not know the man I made a point of saying hello in deference to his patent volunteer activity. Later - after having left the person with whom I had been chatting - I again approached the gentleman. He quipped that I was slow to catch up with him. This permitted me the occasion to stop to chat further. I learned that he lives very close to the first house I owned when I came to Town over 43 years ago. He is by comparison a relative newcomer so I took the opportunity to share with him what I knew about people who had formerly lived on the street where he now resides, including a Judge in Town and the former Registrar of Deeds.
I continued my bicycle ride to the end of Country Street then wound my way back on Ann Street, Church Street and home. In the basement when putting my bicycle away I met with a fellow resident who was returning from his day of gardening. This provoked my allusion to Country Life magazine which reports at considerable length upon gardening.