January 23, 2002

A cup of tea, an orange loaf & thou...



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]

Well, I have been very glum the last week or so, and have not wanted to spread that around. Ergo, no entry.

This afternoon though, as I gazed out the front window at the fog, the soggy wet snow, and the dripping tree branches, I thought, "Wow, I am really glad to be alive right now!"

I have felt great ever since. If staring out at a dismal day can do this for my mood, what might sunshine accomplish?

Immediately I headed for the kitchen. I found myself looking around for something sweet to eat. Nothing! Out came the apron. Out came the mixing bowls and the measuring spoons and pans. Out came the eggs and milk and one very fresh Florida Orange from Christmas. A little over an hour later I sat down with a nice cup of tea and a fresh slice of Fresh Orange Loaf. Grand!

Over my cuppa, I observed our neighbor across the street washing his car in the wintry drizzle. Magarac is over eighty years old. He walks miles daily, with a gait that resembles a jaunty teenage boy out looking for fun. He observes his environment with interest and humor. For instance, he knows when I leave my house and for how long I am gone. He can even guess accurately where I have been while away.

He is not famous. He is not rich. I admire him a great deal and find his approach to life inspiring. I have come to realize that it is not that he is old that impresses me so much as that he is happy. Our time here, however long or short, is best spent in this way, to my way of thinking.

Tonight's menu includes the worst chicken soup ever produced in my kitchen. I am not sure what went so terribly wrong; several things come to mind. Salt, I did not add any salt. I did not add any ingredients that contained salt. It needed a little salt. What was I thinking? Then there are the noodles. Overcooked noodles are not my favorite. The effect of an absence of salt and the presence of overcooked noodles destroyed the appeal of my soup.

I will try to liven up the meal by adding some spicy turkey balls to the soup and serving fresh baked seed bread on the side.

Attila arrives home these days covered with wood chips. He has wood chips in his boots, his overalls, his pockets and even (gasp) in his underclothing. He is a walking tinderbox. The wood chips have migrated to every nook and cranny of the house. I find them in carpets, on chairs and even on the keyboard from time to time.

At first I feared that I might get "slivers" in my feet from walking on them, but this has not happened. The wood chips sit benignly on the floors and furniture, reminding me how long it has been since I have dusted.

Although Attila arrives home at a much earlier hour during the winter months, it is still dark or almost so when he gets here. Our evenings are spent reading, chatting and occasionally curling up in front of the television set with a rented video, a home made pizza and soft drinks. This is a very pleasant life we lead.

There was a time when I lived in a larger city and loved the busy streets and cafes. I spent my time in public places, sometimes meeting with friends, but mostly sitting solitaire, writing copious amounts of poetry and academic tomes. I loved the experience. I cherish the memories.

Variety has been good to me.

Top of Page

Worldly Distractions

Messy desk with yellow happy face stress ball.
Mellow Yellow

By the Easy Chair
The Dearly Departed
by Elinor Lipman

On the Screen
The Mists of Avalon
with Anjelica Huston

16:57 EST
Temp: 5` C
Humidity: 100%
Wind: SW 13 km/h
Barometric:101.0 kPa

Sunrise 7:48 AM EST
Sunset 5:45 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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