December 30, 2002

A Morning Star



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]

As much as I enjoy the holidays, the calm after the storm of activity is most welcome. We enjoyed seeing Luna and Janus, Terra and Lares, and Attila's daughter Syrinx and her boyfriend Pan. We enjoyed days and days of good food. We enjoyed having time to sit quietly together with open books in our laps, chatting occasionally about the contents.

Mist received a gift from a friend, her first gift since she came to live at our house. It consisted of a container of cat treats, a little fabric packet of catnip, and a blue foam ball. As we expected, she would not touch the cat treats, not one for culinary adventure, our Mist. To our great surprise, she took an initial interest in the catnip. She batted it about, leaping over and around it, rolling onto her back and tossing it into the air. However, she soon lost interest and has ignored it ever since.

The truly successful element of the gift was the blue foam ball. Mist has taken to tossing it hither, thither, and yon. She will throw it into the air and abuse it mightily, meowing all the while. When she has tired of this, she walks away from the ball with an air of supreme indifference. Then she will turn suddenly, crouch, and steady her back feet, before lunging at the ball with tremendous force and determination. She wins these showdowns every time. She is quite proud of her hunting prowess. Laughing is not allowed.

The New Year celebration will begin tomorrow. I have always found this particular event difficult to capture.

I remember, as a child, observing the parties and drunkenness that represented the family New Year's Celebration. There was nothing there that I aspired to, no spark of recognition, or desire. To be short, and wandering amongst the legs of large and impaired bipeds, was in no way a happy experience.

Raiding the abandoned buffet table at three a.m. did hold some appeal; although stepping over slightly smelly, inert adults to get to the food presented some challenges. On the bright side, I can credit the New Year with my first exposure to Sweet Gherkin Pickles.

To this day, at a party, my first instinct will be to locate the security of the buffet table, however humble it may be.

Once grown, and master of my own holiday plans, New Year's Eve became a more welcome event. Avoiding parties, the way I chose to celebrate the New Year was at home, with a quiet drink and retrospective of the year past. When young children spent this holiday in my care, we spent the evening skating or tobogganing, then enjoying a game or movie with hot chocolate and goodies.

Attila and I will do the "easy-chair/feet-up/quiet-drink" sort of thing.

The past year was one of adjustment to change; change at many levels. World politics changed with September 11, 2001, and the year 2002 saw that change percolate into many aspects our social fabric. Personal politics changed; Attila and I spent our first childless year, cohabiting only as adults, and not as parents. This too, percolated slowly into the fabric of everyday life.

The last twelve months have seen Ariel's health remain sound, her spirits high. This gift from the universe is received with gratitude.

Ah, and what of the year to come? I make no resolutions, but instead implore the universe to grant my wish.

Attila departs before light, we part at the open door. The stars still shine for wishing in the early morning. Each new day, as I stand at the cold edge of winter, my wish is that I might find peace in "what-we-have", and that "we" might extend to everyone.

Top of Page

Worldly Distractions

Poinsettia Bloom
Blooms of the Season

By the Easy Chair
The Handbook of
Clans & Tartans
of Scotland
by Maria Constantino

"'Popeye the Sailorman' was the hero of a pre-war strip-cartoon (published in this country by the Daily Mirror), who acquired enormous physical strength by the internal application of canned spinach. He was accompanied by a female, Olive Oyl, of dubious charm but indisputable fidelity."
from The Day Gone By: An Autobiography
by Richard Adams,
page 247

On the Screen
Mr. Holland's Opus
starring Richard Dreyfuss

15:01 EST
Temp: 2`C
Humidity: 100%
Wind: SE 19 km/h
Barometric:101.2 kPa

Sunrise 7:55 AM EST
Sunset 4:58 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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