Thursday
August 3, 2000

A day of visits...

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Here are a few of my favorite online haunts:

REALTOR.ca
[This is the site I visit to fantasize about living in Toronto again, which is almost every single day during the winter]

Jonathan Cainer's Zodiac Forecasts
[This is where I visit in the morning, when I need a positive spin on things past, present and future.]

Living Local
[This is where I go to see what Canadians are up to, sometimes I even buy things from the businesses listed there.]

Environment Canada Weather
[This is the site I visit every morning, and before every road trip during the winter]

Yesterday, as I made my way home from my daily walk, Gracie walked down her driveway to greet me. She is looking well. We conversed for a while. She had a visit from the nurse scheduled during the next hour but invited me to visit for a chat after the nurse had gone.

Gracie was eating her breakfast in the closed-in porch when I arrived back at her house. She sat in the sunny room at a little table. Her breakfast spread before her, she was happily chatting to her two colorful budgies. Over the next two hours she reminisced and theorized about the state of the world. She admitted to being eighty-two years of age.

She decided to give me some wool for Attila, as he is interested in taking up knitting. The wool, she said, was stored in the closet of the second-floor, spare bedroom. I followed her up the stairs. It was a bit frightening at first; she was out of breath. That did not slow her down for long. She chatted happily as she sorted through a chest of drawers, removing keepsakes, and treasures of all kinds. As she spread the objects over the bed, each had a story and every story gave her joy.

She stopped suddenly, turned to me in some distress, and said, "What will happen to all my things?"

"You know," I said, "lately I have been thinking about what would happen to all my things. There are things I want people to keep, like the family history information I have gathered and a few of my publications. But really, most of my things are just mine. What happens to them when there is no me is not my problem."

Gracie slowly nodded; she made no comment. The next moment we were looking at pictures of her grandparent's home in England. Shortly after that, I took my leave.

She insisted on walking me to my door, three houses away. We strolled slowly down the street, as she pointed out a variety of nefarious gardening offenses committed by the neighbors. No comment was made on our front garden. Once home, and from inside my house, I secretly watched Gracie returning home. She stopped in front of another elderly neighbor's house to inspect the empty garbage can and recycling box. After some consideration she picked up the box, grabbed the handle of the garbage can, and took them to the back of the neighbor's house.

Gracie is a great gal.

The weather was horrid yesterday. All day long, we were under "Severe Thunder Storm Warnings" that included the possibility of tornadoes. All this did not hit my house and home particularly hard. The difficult part was not knowing if or who would be affected by the severe weather and keeping the computers shutdown and unplugged. As it happened, there were no reports of personal injury due to the weather yesterday.

Three crockpots are busy doing their thing in the kitchen today. One contains granola. One contains spaghetti sauce with fresh basil from the garden. One contains a lemon pudding. Attila will welcome a change from the BBQ and salad routine.

A little bit of excitement for me today. One of my molars has been acting up; I called the Dentist's office thinking I might get an appointment in the next week or so. They could fit me in today; they could fit me in just two hours. I gratefully took the appointment. Then they called back to say that if I could come right now, this very minute, the Dentist would see me right away. That was all I needed to hear. I jumped in the car and was in the parking lot of the Dentist's office within minutes.

I filled in the form for the Receptionist. I had brought with me the booklet from the insurance company so that she could get the information needed. I kept a close watch on it and asked her to return it to me as soon as I saw that it was no longer needed.

"You see," I said, "I am quite forgetful. If I forgot it here, I would never remember where I left it."

A few minutes later I was sitting in the big grey chair with my feet up, being administered to by a truly pleasant woman who took x-rays. Minutes after that the Dentist herself appeared.

I am a little shy these days, as she made pleasant conversation I found myself blushing at my responses. Goodness, the comments, and questions she asked were totally friendly. I knew that and yet I blushed to the roots of my hair as I conversed with her. I really must get out and about amongst adult people more often. The "cringing at interaction" I experience with "The Teenager" is starting to become my modus operandi. I will have to come up with a plan; ease myself into adult society slowly. Sigh, it may not be time yet; "The Teenager" is not done yet.

In addition to my being a little hard to communicate with, my mouth is a little hard to freeze. This is not entirely true. My tongue froze. My lips froze. My cheek froze. The tooth and area immediately surrounding it did not completely freeze. That meant that I could feel that drill as it removed the old filling and the bit of cavity beside it. I pride myself on my high pain threshold. Ha! It is false pride! I cringed. I moaned. I behaved like a complete coward. I am ashamed to say that the pain was not that bad; my reaction to the pain was embarrassing.

After the procedure was complete, I proceeded to the front office to sign the necessary forms. That is where I applied the polish to my image.

I wear reading glasses. I keep my reading glasses connected to a short black cord hanging around my neck. The Dentist puts little bibs around your neck and so my reading glasses became inaccessible. I removed them from their short black cord and put them on. Being accustomed to finding them at the "end of the rope" when I need to read, I was disconcerted when they were not there. I searched the bib of my overalls; they were not there. I looked in my purse; they were not there.

The Receptionist asked with concern, "What are you looking for?"

"My glasses," I answered, "I do not know what I have done with my glasses."

She looked at me with amazed amusement and said, "You're wearing them!"

We all laughed.

Well, I did say that I was quite forgetful, really I did.



Top of Page
RECIPES :: Cast

Worldly Distractions

Calendula
Calendula



By the Easy Chair
A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth



Recipe
Lemon Pudding Cake

From: Mable Hoffmans Crockery Cooking
Serving Size: 5

3 Eggs separated
1 teaspoon Grated lemon peel
1/4 cup Lemon juice
3 tablespoons Butter
1 1/2 cups Milk
3/4 cup Sugar
1/4 cup Flour
1/8 teaspoon
Salt

Beat egg whites until stiff peaks form set aside. Beat egg yolks and blend in lemon peel juice and butter and milk. Combine sugar, flour and salt and add to egg milk mixture beating until smooth. Fold into beaten egg whites. Spoon into crockpot. Cover and cook on high for 2 to 3 hours.
Per serving (excluding unknown items): 285 Calories; 12g Fat (37% calories from fat); 6g Protein; 40g Carbohydrate; 138mg Cholesterol; 191mg Sodium



Quote
A letter from the insurance company:
" Because of the severe wet spring & summer weather conditions experienced in XXX this year, we wish to remind you that your trailer policy EXCLUDES any and all losses arising out of flood and surface water."

 

Page by Page: A Woman's Journal
Photography
Poetry
by Maggie Turner

Canadian Maggie Turner writes and publishes poetry, photography, and a personal journal online. Her work reflects the current way of life in Canada, embracing Canada's past, present, and future in a unique portrayal of everyday life. Maggie's voice is one of the many that actively depict the rich diversity of Canadian culture.

Photography: "a term which comes from the Greek words photos (light) and graphos (drawing). A photograph is made with a camera by exposing film to light in order to create a negative. The negative is then used in the darkroom to print a photograph (positive) onto light-sensitive paper.
Source: University of Arizona Glossary

Poetry: "a form of speech or writing that harmonizes the music of its language with its subject. To read a great poem is to bring out the perfect marriage of its sound and thought in a silent or voiced performance. At least from the time of Aristotle's Poetics, drama was conceived of as a species of poetry."
Source: Creative Studios

Journal: " "Though a journal may be many things - a treasury, a storehouse, a jewelry box, a laboratory, a drafting board, a collector's cabinet, a snapshot album, a history, a travelogue..., a letter to oneself - it has some definable characteristics. It is a record, an entry-book, kept regularly, though not necessarily daily.... Some (entries) will be nearly illegible, written in the dark in the middle of the night.... Not only is it a record for oneself, but of oneself. Every memorable journal, any successful journal, is honest. Nothing sham, phony, false...." (Dorothy Lambert from Ken Macrorie's book, Writing to be Read )
A journal is a way to keep track of your thoughts about what you read... as well as what you did on any given day."
Source: Journal Writing

A Blog is an online journal created by server side software, often hosted by a commercial interest.

"The term "weblog" was coined by Jorn Barger[4] on 17 December 1997. The short form, "blog," was coined by Peter Merholz, who jokingly broke the word weblog into the phrase we blog in the sidebar of his blog Peterme.com in April or May 1999.[5][6][7] Shortly thereafter, Evan Williams at Pyra Labs used "blog" as both a noun and verb ("to blog," meaning "to edit one's weblog or to post to one's weblog") and devised the term "blogger" in connection with Pyra Labs' Blogger product, leading to the popularization of the terms."
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_blogging


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