Now what?

In the middle of the night I strayed from my virginal lair and stole silently into the drawing room to look out the patio windows. The lights glimmered across Sarasota Bay and along the nearby boat slip. The midnight blue was calm and restful.  I ended making a coffee and puttering on my computer for an hour before returning to bed where I slept deeply and dreamlessly until mid-morning.

Subtropical Third World

The raw and sometimes spooky detail attaching a family is discernible to outsiders after quite moderate exposure, allowing for an expiry of the polite niceties and a revival of the more visceral ingredients. The disclosure is accelerated by the comparative lack of generosity which frequently thrives among related persons who themselves have long ago by-passed the extravagance of pretence in favour of what are the more hardened realities of society.

Travel

Given that we haven’t much of anything planned for the next six months - or for the rest of our lives come to think of it - I hesitate to speak disparagingly of travel of any description. The context here is our putatively lacklustre drive from home in Ontario to Longboat Key in Florida for the winter. The journey hardly qualifies as a Mediterranean cruise. Though I have to say in defence of its functionality that the autumn leaves in Shenandoah Valley were spectacular!

Not the same as moving

In spite of the lengthy motor vehicle trundle (driving is my confessed obsession) relocating to Longboat Key for six months is thankfully nothing compared to the industry of a standard move.  The primary difference naturally is that we have only clothing, toiletries, pills and credit cards to transport.  With some hesitation I crow that we've established an orderly routine for this semi-annual undertaking - essentially having trained ourselves to bring less. I should however add that I tote feather pillows (I despise foam) and a lightweight duvet (so much less hassle than having to deal with a sheet and blanket each morning when making the bed).  As well we cart along a Canon printer/scanner for which we paid the astronomic price of $58 at Target years ago. This tireless device may eventually qualify for the "less is more" axiom in view of the regularity we receive almost every communication electronically but there remain sparse occasions on which the printer and scanner are useful. I've given up hauling my electronic piano.  My repertoire is painfully limited.

Rounding the corner...

Looking back upon our enterprise for the past several days is akin to watching a pot about to boil - initially terribly slow, but perceptibly incremental and finally at risk of sudden fruition. I won't say that everything we've done lately is directed to our impending departure but there has been an unexpressed undercurrent associated with looming absence. Gradually the moorings of our present convention are becoming unfastened.  Recent social gatherings have noticeably blended with the spectacle of evaporation. Meanwhile we count these penultimate rallies as markers for our exit.

2 Flights of Stairs

Climbing stairs is not what I would call my preferred activity.  Increasingly as part of my curmudgeonly evolution I have wilfully identified those undertakings from which I instinctively resile. The scope of abandonment primarily encompasses social conventions but I as willingly condemn other enterprises which for one reason or another I dislike or of which from some more complicated motive I disapprove.  This evening as we dined at Heirloom Café on the Mississippi River I was obliged to descend a winding flight of stairs in order to "check the children"; the main floor loo was occupied. I discovered upon returning to table that my Apple watch had recorded my climb on the two flights of stairs.  This bit of intelligence captures the competing philosophic message surrounding the performances of necessity and preference; that is, some things while undesirable are nonetheless imperative.

Cosmetic Change Only

The sum of what I accomplished today - though welcome and relieving - amounts to little more than cosmetic change only. It is perhaps this boring moderation which characterizes most my days.  Perhaps too I must be thankful I haven't anything especially piquant by which to recall my quotidian adventures - having avoided for the time being at least the lottery risk of an unfavourable gambit. Whatever the summation of this similarly abstruse navel gazing the deeper analysis is that there is a want of predictability on balance. Astonishingly this causal chaos is routinely overlooked as we mindlessly equate our existence with the foreseeability of a car wash.

Up the Valley

This afternoon we began our bi-weekly recreational journey along Wolf Grove Road to the Village of Middleville then northward along Hwy 511 to Calabogie. From there we travelled to Matawatchan - Hwys 71 - 41 - 132 - Renfrew - Arnprior - Almonte. The journey is essentially one big circle from Burnstown on Centennial Lake Road to Arnprior. The roads are entirely newly paved and therefore exceedingly comfortable akin to driving on silk.  Passing up and down the rolling hills of the Township of Lanark Highlands was a panoramic treat on this ideal autumn day. The orange colours blended beautifully with the traditional red and yellow contrasting with the verdant coniferous trees. I couldn't help but question the competition of the Gatineaux Hills. This was a superb picture!

Lorna Isobel Johnson (nee Jamieson)

Mrs. Lorna Johnson died October 14, 2019 at Smiths Falls, Ontario. The historic fountain-pen sketch of my acquaintance with Mrs. Johnson is faint but indelible. My primary connection is through her father, Raymond A. Jamieson, QC in whose former law office at 74 Mill Street, Almonte I began my own career. The last time I spoke with Mrs. Johnson was immediately following the death of her father as we reminisced about his lengthy career spanning 1921 - 1976. Enlargement of the dynamic local personalities included Mrs. Johnson’s beloved spouse, Donald Patterson Johnson who, aside from being a maverick accountant, represented John Hawley Kerry. Mr. Kerry had been taken under the arm of Mr. R. A. Jamieson upon his arrival in Almonte many years ago. Mr. Kerry extended similar favour to me upon my arrival in Almonte. I understand that in the 1960s both John H. Kerry and Mrs. Evelyn Jamieson (Lorna’s mother) were separately named Citizen of the Year for the Town of Almonte. Completing this network of inspiring personalities is my acquaintance with Mrs. Johnson’s brother, John G. Jamieson who has that familiar flair which characterizes the family. Mrs. Johnson’s death has revived these important recollections of which I am honoured to have been a part howsoever fleeting.

See the world before you die!

From: pierre
Date: October 13, 2019 at 9:32:25 PM EDT
To: lgwilliamchapman
Subject: greetings

Fortunately they agreed to give me back my deposit and I have booked a trip to Ethiopia in January for 12 days and another one to Botswana in April for 16 days. I am also going to the Galapagos Islands in February. When Grace Kelly married Prince Rainier, Aristotle Onassis gave her as a wedding present a yacht and it is on that yacht that I will be doing my cruise for one week and it is limited to 16 persons. As such I will be spending 2 days prior to the cruise in Quito and 2 days on my return from the cruise in Guayaquil. In December I will be going for one week to Anguilla in the Caribbean and will stay at the 4 Seasons for R&R with my books.

I should be around tomorrow.