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.

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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.