October 14, 2002




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]

There are times when everything just falls into place, when events flow smoothly through time in silent perfection.

Our Thanksgiving family dinner was just such a time. I think all of us feel battered and worn in the world; and just plain happy that somebody, somewhere loves us.

So we sat around the table, eating, talking, and laughing without a thought for the world outside the surrounding four walls.

My child-rearing years were long, rigorous, and more about responsibility than enjoyment. My daughters were healthy, happy, precocious little beings who kept me on my toes, and required all the focus I could muster. When Terra, the youngest, left home to strike out on her own more than a year ago, I was worn down to a dull stump.

Since that time, both the girls have pursued their own interests with the same vigor that they applied to childhood exploration and discovery. I have watched from the sidelines with interest, cheering whenever I could do so without false bravado. Both have succeeded in establishing themselves as unique individuals in their own worlds. As individuals they can see me more clearly, and I hope, love me more dearly.

Thanksgiving was our first family gathering since Terra's flight into the unknown. For the first time, we all met as adults, equally responsible for the outcome of the day. What a day it was, one can savour such treasures for a lifetime.

Although I answered an enthusiastic yes when Terra asked me if I was a hermit, I have been very busy visiting, chatting with friends, and getting about in the world for the last few weeks.

Auntie Mame's daughter, Leto, recently celebrated her birthday and her freedom. With her three young sons, she fled an environment that was toxic for all of them. Her birthday party was held by her biggest fan, her mother. It was a quiet family event, filling Auntie Mame's house with food, song, active children, and good conversation. Steve Paul Simms led a heartfelt rendition of "Happy Birthday to You", sung by a group truly glad to see Leto about to enter a new and happier chapter of her life.

For the past few weeks, I have been busy with a project of adoption, the adoption of a pet that is. A local group, concerned with the well being of animals, helps families find good homes for pets that they can no longer care for. Having decided I would like feline companionship, I decided to offer one of these animals a home.

After a friendly but probing interview with the "placement person", I was given a list and description of the many pets seeking new homes. There were so many, so very many...

The decision came easily though. I had chosen three pets at random to visit and consider for adoption. The first owner that called to setup a home-visit was Chris. We arranged for a visit within the hour. He sounded so nice on the telephone that I felt optimistic about the visit; as well I might. I spent an hour or more talking to Mist and Chris, learning all about Mist. Chris had a new puppy, a very large puppy, which had become very aggressive with Mist. The new puppy was confined to the basement until Mist could be relocated out of harms way.

When she sat on my lap, I knew she and I would get on well together. That was it; Chris and I drove to the local pet store where I purchased a carrier to transport Mist home. Within a few hours, our home was transformed. Mist took all of five minutes to establish herself, and then she promptly went to sleep, sprawled out on our bed.

Top of Page

Worldly Distractions

Mist the Cat
Right at home.

"Not only were women being laid off en masse, but entry jobs were being redefined to involve heavy lifting, to exclude women from the factories. In a Flint auto plant, all the women were put on graveyard shift in violation of seniority, and the UAW, which continued to address members as sirs and brothers, refused to fight for its women members."
from "Gone to Soldiers"
by Marge Piercy
1987, Fawcett Crest, pg 733

18:00 EDT
Temp: 11`C
Humidity: 43%
Wind: S 0 km/h
Barometric:102.5 kPa

Sunrise 7:46 AM EDT
Sunset 6:43 PM EDT

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."

Copyright 1999 - Today Maggie Turner
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