This morning I broadly hinted I was done with what must by now have become a perilously unvaried repetition of my undiminished rapture for this place. Already I have reiterated my utter sense of fortune to be here. But I simply must report that today was perhaps one of the most pleasant we've had on the Island! A moment ago when exiting the beach at Tower Beach I exclaimed to two wayfarers on the boardwalk, "It's a grand day!"
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Are you one of those brainy birds predisposed to reflection? Do you idly muse upon your life and think about what you've done and who you are. You may be one whose life is - to speak charitably - unpretentious? Perhaps you consider that you are justifiably self-effacing? If so, I'm right there with you, make no mistake. To be candid an account of my life is unexceptional, passable at best I'd say. For one thing it would impart far more tang than merited to my insipid reality to suggest that any day is much different from another. How often have you rejoined to a friendly enquiry about what's new, "Oh, same old, same old!" Nonetheless - and this may startle you for its complacency - I rejoice in every boring moment, even to a fault. Indeed as inclined as I am to itemize the particulars of my ineffable existence, I will resist if only because I fear their public recitation may be tedious (though strangely that does nothing to dampen my private gusto).
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Apart from my health and welfare, there aren't many things I "have" which are irreplaceable. Of course every thing is replaceable. But it might require money. And I, like most people, prefer not to spend money to replace something. What stirs me in this matter is that there are very few things I still own which are of any particular importance to me, not because what remains has lost its appeal but because what remains of value is limited. In the past several years I have unloaded almost everything of value I ever owned. There was nothing spiritual about the divestment. The motivation was - to use a suitably lofty phrase - strictly economic. After a lifetime of profligacy I awoke to a choice between money and things if I were to enter upon a new career - specifically retirement. I am actually proud to say that the transition from extravagance to moderation has been not only painless but also welcome. Nonetheless I never completely abandoned my appetite for certain things, things which historically have always captured my attention - cars and jewellery.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
It would in my opinion amount to constructive negligence to forego historical commentary upon the details of my daily navigation on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. In spite of the obvious repetition of everyday events there are too many delicious ingredients to ignore. Besides a faithful record of this trivia may one day provide truck for fond recollection. It is after all sadly true that the wings of many Canadian "snow birds" are eventually clipped by incremental poor health and a corresponding escalation of health insurance costs.
Monday, January 4, 2016
It would likely surprise most of us to discover how common we are. But hang on! This isn't going to be a bad thing! I employ the word "common" in this sense; namely, prevalent (as opposed to ordinary and unexceptional). In fact, in the sense that I am using the term "common" there is nothing either ordinary or unexceptional about it. It is on the contrary quite extraordinary and equally exceptional that many of us share almost identical inclinations regarding certain things in life which privately might often engender a degree of personal embarrassment. I am not talking of anything lascivious nor of bodily functions, just everyday things. In matters of many everyday things, we're all alike.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
While I hesitate to reiterate today's trifling annoyances (because in a general way they are typical of what happens regularly), I feel compelled to do so if for no other reason than as a matter of record.
Speaking of records - if you will permit me this brief detour - I have within the past several days undergone a significant change of heart about my literary medium of choice. Since I was fourteen years old (when I began keeping a diary) I have continued to write as a hobby in one form or another.My first media involved so-called "hard copy"; that is, books of one description or another in which I usually wrote in long-hand using a pen (ballpoint or fountain pen). Then I began typing everything and inserting the pages into a three-ring binder (one which I dignified by having it bound in leather and my name embossed in gold lettering). Finally with the advent of computers I shifted to electronic production. Within that latter framework I first used primarily WordPerfect (that is, just one big file on my computer). I then discovered blogs (in fact, the one I am using now). And about two years ago I had a web site constructed in anticipation of my running for election to municipal Council. When I withdrew my election application I decided to keep the web site and convert it into another blog, although one which I fashioned more private than this Google blog.
Saturday, January 2, 2016
As I breezily sailed home on my bicycle along the beach this afternoon I was hailed by name. Normally that would have been quite unexpected. But not on this occasion. I knew that acquaintances of ours were staying in a nearby condominium and my hurried deduction was of course correct. It was indeed one of those people who had beaconed me from the shore where he and another were sauntering. I turned and joined them by the water. I dismounted from my bicycle and extended my hand to my fellow-traveller, wishing him compliments of the New Year. He introduced me to his companion, a middle-aged female friend with a short hairdo. We engaged in predictable banter about their recent journey here but primarily focused upon my friend's wife who had been stricken ill for the past two days and was at the condominium in bed. I was naturally sympathetic, the more so considering the short duration of their holiday here, a mere week. Privately I reflected that the wife's illness would potentially contaminate the foursome in more ways than one, not the least of which was a general damper on their holiday plans. Several years ago while on the Island I had suffered a 24-hour stomach illness from which I quickly recovered; however, from the intelligence I gathered about the wife's condition, things for her were more serious.