I have given up entirely the idea of getting my routine blood test. I believe our health care system is now beyond redemption. A glossy government flyer came in the mail last month, outlining a glorious new plan. Our illustrious government has decided to invest our health dollars on computer-accessed services. Things are bad, but they are about to get much, much worse. Since we now have health care benefits through my place of employment, we might survive.

My fantasy is that the idiots, who have dreamt up this bogus solution to our failing health care system, will be the first to be left fending for themselves when they most need assistance. However, the reality is that their access to private health care will protect them from having to experience or even acknowledge the results of their self-serving handy work.

I have to stop reading the glossy government flyers that keep arriving in the mail. Sometimes I think they send them out just to make conscious people miserable, bitter and twisted: an effective strategy.

Beautiful. Today is beautiful.

I have decided against working overtime today. I have been doing so on a voluntary and regular basis, because they are short staffed at work, and I have been trying to keep things above the waterline. However, from the bowels of his luxurious office, my boss loudly expressed a complaint about having to pay people overtime. That would be me. I will now wait until I get a formal “thank you for the extra effort for the company” spiel before I volunteer to spend extra time at the establishment.

Which leaves me sitting in the sun on this beautiful day.

Attila is working today, as he does every Saturday. Bless his soul; he is required to do so. Although this may become tedious, the company that employs him provides small, appreciative little perks. These perks don’t amount to much in a material sense, but they have a significant impact on the quality of life on the job.

On the home front, Attila has his project for the summer well under way. He is building a screened in porch at the back door. This will be our haven from the mosquito population, enabling us to idle outdoors at dusk and in the early morning. It will also serve as a “smoking room” for Attila, who takes his pleasure out of doors. The project is progressing slowly. As there is no pressing need for this edifice to occasional retreat, Attila can putter along as time allows.

We have had plenty of rain this spring. The greenery is lush, luxuriant, hanging from the trees in heavy sways. The grass is green and dappled in shadow and early morning sunshine. The world is hushed, as it is early on a Saturday morning.

Later in the day the seasonal residents will have their power mowers, motor boats, private planes and helicopters, SUVs and luxury doodle cars, all terrain vehicles and the like, revved up and roaring through the otherwise quiet back roads and waterways. They are accustomed to supremacy and license in their day-to-day lives, and command it easily in their summer playground.

Attila and I, invisible to people of this ilk, enjoy our quiet solitary existence, tucked away in the trees.

There are many people whose company we truly enjoy. These people occupy the quiet corners. They populate the byways, busy with their own creative endeavors, living in their own creative realities. And that is all they have in common.