Many people have chosen this weekend - known throughout Canada as Victoria Day Weekend - for a celebratory event of one description or another. While the royal wedding may provide a theme for an event, the motive nonetheless remains primarily the reunion of family or friends. It is historically the first weekend of the summer months, one associated with gardening and other out-of-doors customs or duties (and beer). It is sometimes known as the unofficial start of the cottage season.
This morning we ventured to Mississippi Golf Club to put on the nosebag. The repast was as always nonpareil! After all these years of going to the golf club for breakfast it was only today that I discovered that pea meal bacon is also on the menu. Accordingly my bit of nourishment on this occasion consisted of regular bacon (2 orders), sausage, pea meal bacon, cheese slices, tomato slices and black coffee. It was superb! Sitting perched in the dining room on the high chairs at the club tables overlooking the meandering Mississippi River is an unbelievably soothing experience.
Early this afternoon we attended a 50th wedding anniversary in Town. It appears that this time of year marks the celebration of many weddings - though the celebration of the 50th anniversary yet remains relatively singular and appropriately auspicious. But it is an undeniable consequence of aging that more of one's friends are happily approaching the commemoration. The gathering today quickly accelerated to a noisy congregation. I was reminded once again that my hearing is not what it used to be.
Following our departure I determined to go for an aimless automobile drive. This too was reminiscent of another of my erstwhile quirks - not the drive, but my desperate need to do it. The last time I had such compulsion was after my open-heart surgery. Then as today I felt the disturbing psychological necessity to drive to the Village of Pakenham. I assume that after my recent bout of punctured lung, broken ribs and concussion my wrecked body and soul are demanding the allaying benefits of a bucolic environment and the mechanical purity of a fine automobile. Indeed I am committed to capturing such enduring though impersonal perfection. It allows me to rise above the impeding and sometimes uncomfortable prospect of mortality. Nor is it beneath me to dwell shamelessly upon whatever manifestation of flawlessness befits me. Shall I say only that the buttery appeal of masterfully designed precious metal captures my ceaseless attention! Smirk if you will! I am convinced that the height of my enthralment in this life is no longer within my remnant fuselage but rather in the unparalleled artistic achievement of human creation - paintings, architecture, music and - yes - jewellery. Like a nomad - uncertain of either his place or fortune - I have acquitted my incorporeal desire to what is tangible, portable and valuable. This esteemed spirituality is perhaps a fitting concoction for Victoria Day Weekend.
Pomp and Circumstance