The morning is sparkling bright and cool. The smog that hazed the distance has now blown away. It would be very pleasant in the short term to bask for hours in the warmth and light; it would be unpleasant in the long term to deal with the skin problems that might result.

Today is filled with laundry, bread making, and assorted small chores around the house. It is a statutory holiday today in Canada, one that Attila works through. The neighbors, all home for the day, are painting, sawing, hammering and busily tending their gardens. Small noises of all types drift through my office window. I feel so inspired that I just might hang the wet laundry on the line to dry.

I mention my daughters from time to time in this journal, naming them ambiguously "Oldest Daughter" and "The Teenager". The name, "The Teenager", cannot remain descriptive forever. She is moving through these years at a quickening pace, the name characterizing less and less her stage of life. Thinking about a more suitable name for "The Teenager" has led me to consider the same for "Oldest Daughter" and her "Fiance". To my great relief, appropriate names have simply popped into my head.

Researching the names has assured me of their suitability and each represents a crucial aspect of the personality it will grace. This statement is based, of course, on my bias. However, this is my journal; I do not claim impartiality in what is written here. My daughters are here portrayed as I see them and as I feel about them.

And so, in this tale of one life, I will henceforth call "The Teenager" Terra, "Oldest Daughter" Luna, and my soon to be son-in-law Janus.

Canada Day found us surrounded by happy families and good food. Janus' sister, who lives in a picturesque rural location, hosted a large gathering for the national celebration. Children's faces were painted in bright colors. Hair was braided and beaded with red and white beads. Several gas barbecues churned out a steady stream of hot dogs, burgers, sausages and chicken. There was a large keg of beer on tap as well as a seemingly endless supply of wines, and a table covered with salads and desserts. There were a lot of happy, smiling, relaxed people chatting and enjoying the scenery and small bands of children playing all manner of games. It was a propitious cacophony in honor of Canada's birthday.

Our social calendar continues to swell. There are weekends that now include two events. It will be extremely important for Attila and I to keep up with our sleep and to steal private moments together. We can accomplish both directives by packing up our lounge chairs and heading for the beach at Pinery Provincial Park. I suspect these small excursions will become an anchor of serenity in the emotionally intense weeks to come.

The things we do for love.

Dear Universe,

I have a question. I already know the answer, but just this moment I need to hear you say it.

Do children ever forgive and move on from the disappointment of less than perfect parents? Although I understand that all children are subject to less than perfect parenting, levels of disappointment differ. Considering other variables, disappointment may not always be proportional to the degree of parental imperfection. It is not for me to judge of course, just where Attila and I fall in the perfection continuum. Opinions vary.

As well, it would be great to have a rough estimate to the nearest year as to when our turn for forgiveness comes up. Please understand that I do not want to grovel or ask for special treatment, and we do accept that it would not be fair if we were prematurely moved to the front of the line of forgiveness. It is just that if there is a cancellation, could you fit us in soon? Forgiving is our priority, however, forgetting would be a lovely bonus.

Terra may have a new name, but the teenage condition is not so easily dismissed and dissipates gradually. Patience is sometimes difficult to achieve.

Kind Regards and Supplications
Maggie (and Attila)