October 23, 2000

Old Friends



Here are a few of my favorite online haunts:
[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]

The Memorial Service for Alison was held on Saturday. Auntie Mame kindly offered a ride; the day began in good company and so it continued. So many old and dear faces and friends. Together we shared Steve and his sister Andrea's warm tributes to their mother, to a woman we all respected.

I have not written a poem for a very long time. Or rather, the poems I have written have tended to be reactionary in nature. I find it difficult to remain adequately detached from the chaos of guiding a teenager through the difficult final years to independence. As a result, my recent poetic scribbling has dealt more with fantasies of escape than with my own relationship with the universe.

To my great surprise a small piece recently floated to the surface. It came to me the night I received the news from Steve that Allison had gone. The candle I burned for her flickered deep into the night. I sat among the shadows, alone with my grief and memories. Like old friends, words joined me in my vigil.

In the Shadows with Alison

I watched the candle
the flame sparked
Final farewell.

I burned that candle
for you dear friend,
who died quietly in sleep.

The idea of death is less frightening,
because you did it first.

Attila took another Sunday morning siesta. He managed time off work on Sunday morning to sleep in and share with me a quiet breakfast. We are feeling absolutely decadent around here.

The sun is shining today. The yellow and red leaves are fluttering their last in the sky. The light is brilliant. Like a first sip of wine, just to gaze out a window infuses warm sensations. This is my favorite time of year, full of dazzling colors and warm sweaters.

I have a few aging Macintosh apples sitting in a box under the kitchen table and it is time to do something with them. I found a recipe for apple crisp that may or may not turn out well. The crisp is in the oven and there is a loaf of seed bread baking. The house smells good. I think a cup of tea taken on the easy chair in the sunshine will be just the thing to keep me busy until the crisp needs to be taken from the oven.

Top of Page

Worldly Distractions

Nasturtium Blooms
Last Blooms of Autumn

Page by Page: A Woman's Journal
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 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."

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