So, that's that. The bloom is off the rose, so to speak. Jillie's pleasure in eating rice for breakfast and dinner, fortified with a packet a day of the veterinarian Forti-Flora to enrich her gut biome just doesn't appeal to her any longer. She enjoys the chicken soup in the rice and the cooked chicken, and picks that out, leaving the rice fortified of course with the Forti-Flora.. It's the Forti-Flora she has lost patience with. Jackie's interested in what she leaves over, but he's in no need for it.  She wants to eat her ordinary food and can't figure out why we're being so mean to her. 

 

Her appetite is as robust as ever, she's ready to playfight with her brother any time. She seems happy and comfortable, and as obnoxious as ever in the ravine, barking at everyone to let them know she's there. But the problem of diarrhea persists. She's no longer getting us up at night, though, to be let out, and that's a positive.

I don't think I'd have been very responsive last night to that kind of demand-appeal. Last night I was in sick bay, too. Stomach upset, intimate interactions with a very specific bathroom fixture, aching muscles and tired, very tired. We went up to bed earlier than usual and once ensconced in bed I felt a whole lot better. And then, in the morning I felt like death warmed over. For whatever reason my hands and fingers were very uncooperative; fingers felt like unobliging sausages with no inclination to bend. Finger calisthenics followed until that passed.

 

Some nausea followed and I still felt unlimbered and tired. So today, I promised myself would be a quiet day of no energy expenditure whatever. We decided on an alternative breakfast so as not to get the puppies' hopes up too high. Soft-boiled eggs for Irving, scrambled eggs for the puppies. The softly scrambled eggs went well with Jillie's rice. And Jackie had his as a separate treat after his kibble. As for me, I was able to eat a normal breakfast; fruit, toast, cream cheese, tea. Nos so bad, after all.

 

Out we went in the early afternoon, hauling down a new pair of winter-intermediate coats for the puppies. A cold day after all that blissful mild weather and ample sun. And the wind made it feel ferociously cold. Which likely explained a notable absence of other hikers out on the trails. We did meet a new person and her two dogs for the first time. She had a Golden mix and a Great Dane puppy, a beautiful, graceful female puppy that wanted to play with our two.

And now, Irving has a new member of his Ravine Cookie Club!

 

Back home I cooked up a fresh batch of rice for Jillie, which delayed their after-hike treat somewhat. And then I thought about dinner. I'd prepare a fall harvest vegetable soup at the very least, and since I had bought a package of smoked trout, Irving might decide on having that. The day is unfolding as it should. And it helps that I feel much improved over last night.

It had occurred to me on Monday that I hadn't made baked beans yet this winter. It's comfort food on cold days, if anything is. Monday we had a beef roast, Yorkshire pudding and asparagus, so I was looking for something quite a bit different. It isn't that I produce baked beans exactly, although the ingredients are just the same, it's that I do the beans in a pot on the stove. I just barely remembered to hunt for the pinto beans in my pantry and soak them overnight, before going up to bed. I hate it when I remember once I'm already in bed with my nose deep in a book.

 

So baked beans it was, yesterday, with its wide panoply of ingredients from onion, garlic and finely chopped jalapeno pepper, to molasses, brown sugar, vinegar, tomato paste, salt, pepper, dried mustard and olive oil. For good measure I chopped red bell pepper and tomatoes into it as it bubbled away on the stove for added flavour and texture. When our children were young I used to shred cheddar cheese for them to sprinkle over their beans.

I had planned to do a stir-fry for dinner tonight but when I went searching in the freezer for what I was certain I had put away; beef strips suitable for stir-frying, there was none; must have used them another time. What I did find was minced meat so I decided to make a meat pie instead, for a change. Another meal I haven't yet made this winter. And Irving gave his enthusiastic approval. He'll be somewhat less approving tomorrow when we have fish.

 

The  younger of our two sons who loves working with wood (like his father) and sending off gifts to his brother, his sister and us, had mailed a knife to us and it arrived in the mail, a slender, well-packed object that had 'fragile' written on it. It cost the earth to send, no less than $21 in postage. On the other hand, as a hand-made kitchen utensil in my kitchen-cooking arsenal, it is precious. I've so many wooden paddles, mixing spoons, rolling pins and the like he has made for me. As well as an endless array of pottery, from teapots to mixing bowls and pie plates.

 

He didn't forge the business half of the knife, though he could have. In his younger days he used to make miniature wood planes, forging the steel to fit into the wood portion, using the live fire of a wood-burning stove we had in our old house. And once when he was in Australia he went to a workshop on knife-making, the actual steel portion. It was the handle he produced, this time. He'd bought a large knife on sale, and removed the steel from its original handle, then set about making his own handle. He did the same with a potato peeler he made for his sister. 

 

 

He collects pieces of wood he finds here and there; surprisingly exotic woods sometimes used as packing material, wood he picks up when he is wilderness camping, and sometimes what he finds down at Wreck Beach in Vancouver.

This handle is made of tiger maple primarily, through there are slender pieces of sumac and cherry on either side. The finished product, steel included, is light and balanced, the blade cuts through the most stubbornly resistant food. It feels polished and smooth, because it is, absolutely unblemished, sparkling like a jewel from the finish he used when he built his kayak.

 

It's been an overcast day but very windy, the high temperature this afternoon 4C. But apart from the occasional foray into the backyard with Jackie and Jillie, no ravine walk. Yesterday when we set out for the ravine, Irving mentioned his ankle was tender. He speculated he might have twisted it on the ice out in the ravine yesterday. Our boots tend to splay sideways taking our feet sharply in that direction, when we tromp on/into deep indentations that appeared as a result of last week's rain followed by a snap freeze. We're in for more of that this evening and tomorrow.

He managed well enough on our afternoon hike yesterday but by late evening he was in agony with the pain. Thankfully, once he fell asleep it didn't bother him. Not until this morning when he awoke. Still, it feels much better than it had the night before. But no question it wouldn't be possible to embark on a vigorous tramp through the forest trails. All the more so since they're pretty icy. Irony here since I was the one that slipped while ascending a hill yesterday, not Irving.