February 21, 2001

Heart's Desire



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]

A new program has begun. Attila and I own a vehicle, we have for several years now. We have relied primarily on our feet and the public transit services to move about in the world. This has been more than satisfactory while "The Teenager" has been working her way through the difficult years of cling and push. She is beginning to mature at accelerating rates, slowly loosening the ties that have prevented me from venturing far from home. Today the car and I are toodling around the hi-ways and bi-ways, peering here and there with interest.

This morning I left the house bright and early, bound for the open road. I write this from a local donut shop; donut shops are a Canadian way of life. I sit quietly in the corner with my laptop, tapping at the keys unnoticed. Life bustles around me. Small groups of people read newspapers and chat. Friends arrive and chairs are pulled up as they add to the general hubbub. Scattered throughout the shop are lone women, sitting at tables enjoying a quiet cup. The coffee is good here.

Yesterday the weather was mild, the sun shone, and the world outside was wonderfully pleasant. I managed a long walk in the strengthening sunshine and enjoyed the view of the trees and sky for the rest of the day.

Today the sun shines on newly formed ice and tiny tails of snow wag in the wind. The wind robs all available warmth within minutes of exposure. It is not a good day for a stroll. It is a lovely day for a drive.

Sitting behind the wheel this morning, I was uncertain what direction I would take on the maiden voyage. Following my nose, I found myself in the countryside, in the vicinity where Attila works the land. I enjoyed exploring the environment where he spends the hours of daylight. Lots of sky, trees, wind, and cold. He was out there somewhere, probably within shouting distance. I did not attempt to interrupt his workflow, although it was tempting.

A milestone in life was reached yesterday evening. The "Oldest Daughter" called in an exuberant mood, with good reason. There is to be a wedding in the family this summer. My reaction was one of instant joy. She loves children, and would like to start a family. Although her dreams are very different than mine were and are, I feel deeply satisfied that she will join her life to such a well suited and wonderful young man.

We are definitely gaining in this situation and welcome "The Fiancé" into the family with open arms.

"The Teenager", who loves ritual, protocol and propriety, reacted to the news with literal screams of delight. She will participate in the wedding as a Bridesmaid. Since talking to her sister she is full of plans for her hair, her nails, and her dress.

Now that the excitement of the announcement has died down, I am realizing that I will have to concern myself with hair and a dress or some suitable outfit. I dread this aspect of the preparations. I do not experience pleasure in posh and pageantry, even less so when I am directly involved. The clothing I enjoyed wearing in my youth no longer fits or does not look particularly fetching when it does. I would have made a terrible princess, but might fair better as queen, or queen mother. On second thought, overalls definitely disqualify me from royal elegance, function over form.

Let the wedding plans begin.

Suddenly all thoughts of weddings and royalty vanish as the real world of the donut shop asserts itself. A man at the next table is talking to his friends about his desire to be touched by a woman. Usually I am not conscious of the conversations taking place around me. Some inner radar does alert me to potential violations of my privacy. Lone males discussing touching and women, no matter how innocuously, alert my consciousness to the possibility of intrusion. My concentration has been broken and I pack up the computer and head out into the rest of my day.

The sun is shining between short wintry snow squalls. I focus on the sunny periods and navigate carefully through the squalls.

Top of Page

Worldly Distractions

Primrose Blooms
Primroses continue to bloom.

Slavonic Dances Op 46 & 72
Antonin Dvorak

On the Screen
The Sixth SenseWeather
02:00 PM EST
Temp: -11` C
Humidity: 67%
Wind: W 10 mph
Barometric: 30.43 in

Sunrise 7:06 AM EST
Sunset 5:53 PM EST

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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