July 19, 2007




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]

Yesterday was a whirlwind of activity. Attila lost a half day’s pay to government bureaucracy. We drove hours to visit government offices during their hours of operation, in order to personally fill in the forms, and stand for the photographs, as required. We also managed to fit in the fitting for the tuxedo that Attila will wear at the wedding, which was quick, easy and took less than fifteen minutes. And while Attila was busy with measurements, I took a few minutes to duck into a nearby clothing store and found a pair of shoes for myself, to be worn at the wedding. Finding the shoes was nothing short of miraculous, as my feet are an almost impossible fit. A very profitable day, all things considered, even though it did slightly reduce our income.

Last night as we sat on the porch, Attila pointed out a dead ladderback woodpecker, lying on its back, beside the stoop. It was a beautiful bird, yellow waistcoat, scarlet throat, beautiful. It must have hit the window above and broken its neck. I dutifully called the local health unit to report the dead bird. Since they only test ravens, crows and bluejays for West Nile Virus, this little bird will not picked up to be tested. However, its demise will be recorded in their database for possible future reference.

I have been reading the news every morning, and have decided to discontinue this practice, at least temporarily. For the moment I do not want to expose my spirit to the vagaries of the journalistic perspective. If I am to believe what I read, the rest of humanity is adrift in a sea of chaos and violence, heroes are villains, villains are heroes, ordinary events beneath mention. I guess, if that is the state of the rest of the world, I am afloat on the very same raft, and an unwilling participant in the very same chaos and violence by virtue of my species. The media is an overwhelming spectre.

I need to spend some time gazing into the horizon. So far I can see islands of courage and compassion, isolated swaths of green photosynthesizing potential and a few lighthouses casting beams of joy into the darkness.

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Worldly Distractions

hosta lily in my garden
Hosta Bloom


The Owl and the Pussycat
by Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
" O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, you are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are."
Pussy said to the Owl "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing.
O let us be married, too long we have tarried;
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
" Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?"
Said the Piggy, "I will"
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand.
They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Much Madness is Divinest Sense
by Emily Dickinson

Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
’ T is the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.

Temp 23°C
Pressure 100.5 kPa
Visibility 15 km
Humidity 70 %
Humidex 28
Dewpoint 17°C
Wind E 15 km/h

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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