Just thinking about all the things that have to be done in the transition from one season to another is fatiguing. There are so many details, so many items to be looked after, particularly between the passage of winter into spring, and its reverse; fall into winter. Summer is home free, leisure time, when we just have to tend to ordinary, everyday things so many of which are sheer pleasure.

At this time of year, though, that old tradition of spring cleaning and changeover looms over us. In the house, once the mud we carry in from our daily forays into the ravine to trek the forest trails has finished, all the winter rugs at the back, front, and side doors have to be lifted and deep-cleaned -- as in washed. And replaced with smaller, lighter ones, easier to deal with when the floors get washed weekly. Boot trays emptied of their muddy boots, everything cleaned and put away.

Winter coats have to be washed and put away for the season and the same with all the woolly accoutrements accompanying the jackets. The same for strictly winter clothing; washed, cleaned and stored out of the way while lighter clothing is brought out. Bedclothes the same, quilts changed over and different types of bedding linen exchanged.

Kitchen cupboards emptied, washed and restocked. Curtains taken down, washed and rehung. Windows washed. I've started saving coffee grounds rather than putting them into the compost bin, so I can scatter them around the blue and pink hydrangeas for better performance. I used to crush eggshells and gather them into large plastic containers to be used instead of diatomaceous earth to scatter around the stalks of emerging hostas to protect the foliage from slugs.

I've partially emptied the compost bins in the backyard to sprinkle the rich finished 'soil' comprised of decayed kitchen waste into the garden beds at the front of the house. I'm considering doing the same with the back gardens, but hesitate because Jackie and Jillie might be attracted to it to roll in, although it's been so long in the making there's no odour I can detect to attract them.

We went out to the ravine a little later than usual this afternoon because aside from the house-cleaning this morning, I added in a few other tasks, but we did get out there and there's such a difference to be seen every day. Dogwood shrubs are putting out little green leafy shoots. The hazelnut shrubs' catkins are now fully open, just dripping off the branches. The wind has brought down tons of the red florets of the maple trees. We saw the emergence of partridgeberry greenery shining dark green through the leaf mass of the forest floor.

Jackie and Jillie met up with some doggie acquaintances they were happy to see and hang out with briefly. They tend to bark excitedly as a 'hi, how'r'ya! when they see an old friend. Among them were two little pint-sized Yorkie mixes trotting through the trails, a fraction of the size of either Jackie or Jillie, and they're fairly small dogs themselves. 

And yes, the Mallards that we saw four days ago are still hanging around the creek. Seems they're finding enough aquatic vegetation and/or insects to satisfy their nesting hunger. It's lovely to see them, they're so calm and attractive. They're completely unfazed by any attention they get, nothing seems to bother them, though it undoubtedly would if a dog decided to go for a dip nearby them and thrash about in the creek, and much more so if they were ever viewed as 'game' by a Malamute, for example.

Unbelievable -- for well over a year the world has been gripped in a COVID vice, squeezing the life out of people and the world-wide economy, creating desperation everywhere it strikes, and now that the miracle of a preventive vaccine is available, many people, even the most vulnerable to virus onset and death are unwilling to be inoculated against the pathogen. There is, for at least 40 percent of an entire population, little trust in science, evidently.

Ontario finally, to the great relief of its elderly population, has opened registration for appointments to be scheduled for vaccinations held at any number of temporary vaccine clinics. There were some initial glitches in registration but they appear to have been solved. Did the authorities think of the glitch in uptake that might eventuate? They're appealing to people to respond, to register, to receive their vaccinations because while they have thousands of open spots at the clinics for registration, they're going empty.

And furthermore, because some people have failed to show up for their appointed vaccination time, precious vaccines are going to waste. In addition, there is a problem from within the medical community itself whereby many there are loathe to, or refuse to be vaccinated. Among them personal care workers who are in daily contact with the demographic of health-compromised elderly requiring close and constant care.

A desperate situation has evolved in the last two weeks at Ottawa's Heart Institute where both patients and health workers have received their first dose of vaccine but in the interval between their first and second scheduled dose both patients and those administering to them at the hospital have contracted COVID-19. 

Under instruction from Canada's appointed National Advisory Committee on Immunization, the supply of vaccines has been 'stretched' from the manufacturer's fixed recommendation of several weeks between each dose, to an arbitrary four months in Ontario before the second dose is administered. This, in an effort to make the available vaccine doses stretch further so that many more people in the Canadian population can be inoculated than if the two-dose-two-week protocol is followed.

Interestingly, the hospital authority is calling upon the province to make an 'exception' for health workers and heart patients, to have their second dose stepped up immediately in light of the hospital's experience. Just as interesting is that two elderly retired physicians who have received their first dose, outraged at the decision to withhold the second dose for a four-month period rather than respecting the manufacturer's instructions, are suing the government presumably for a form of medical malpractise.

As for us, it will be a week Friday that we received our first dose. Our second is scheduled for mid-July; about 104 days' hence. We're grateful to have received the first dose and would be even more relaxed about the situation if we were to receive the second in another week. Everyone has aspirations of wishing to live to see another year.

It's raining again here. After yesterday's all-sun day and the full-day rain event of the day before that. The rain and more elevated temperatures have melted most of the snowpack from winter. And what's the weather forecast for the next several days? Well actually, snow, as the temperature continues to fluctuate wildly.

If that old ditty, 'Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailor's delight" is anything to go by, we shouldn't be having a rainy, windy and cool day today. Last evening as the sun was setting and twilight was just beginning to set in, we saw a blaze of red tinged with yellows across the sky. A nice way to cap off a sunny day to be sure, but it did not augur a fair day to follow, after all.

No ravine hike means a bit of extra time and since I've started the ritual of seasonal spring cleaning, and did half of the end-wall pantry in the kitchen yesterday, I cleaned out the second half today. That's just the beginning, there's tons more left to do. And it'll get done by-and-by. 

Today is the day we had originally made appointments for our first anti-COVID inoculations. Until we read in the newspaper this past Monday that the automated bookings for March 23, 24 and 25 had seen a problem arise through double bookings. The article advised people to call the provincial number contact to correct the situation. In that a new appointment had to be scheduled. So the rigmarole was repeated, waiting seemingly endlessly for a response on the other end, for the purpose of re-scheduling our appointments.

First off, it was the online registrations that had gone awry. Once the questionnaire had been completed with all your applicable data proving eligibility to enable registration, people trying that route were suddenly confronted by a blank screen with the tiny message: "tampered". When I read that I thought I had done something wrong in filling in the application, but no, this occurred to just about everyone trying to register online.

So we tried telephone booking and did an internal "hurray!" when we were given today's date for our vaccinations. Now that too had been messed up. Our new appointments are for Friday. In this morning's news, however, a report that thousands of people showing up as instructed for their appointments at a number of area vaccination sites, including the one we're to report to, found the situation repeating itself. Double booking again. Such that the city put out shuttle buses to reduce the waiting crowd and drive them to other sites. 

The kind of gross ineptitude that can only leave you shaking your head with dismay and wondering can't they get anything right? The province hasn't been able to inoculate more than fifty percent of over-80s, yet it's inviting people over 75 to begin to register for appointments. Demonstrating how best not to inspire confidence in government efficiency.

Adding to the gloom, an all-day rain. So it's dark in the house and it feels damp and cooler than it really is, and Jackie and Jillie may be bored, but they harbour no interest whatever in getting outdoors on a rainy day. I actually have to order Jillie to get out there and pee. She finds it horribly distasteful to get her tiny paws wet and will do just about anything to avoid wet grass. There's some snow left in the backyard and that she's not averse to settling on to relieve herself. Go figure.

But Spring has arrived and April is just around the corner. It's when, beyond my best intentions to ignore the inevitable, thoughts of spring cleaning come to mind. So I thought I'd start off with taking down and washing the window sheers. It's a drag, hauling them all down, removing the countless hooks, washing and drying the sheers, returning the hooks and re-hanging the sheers. Although our windows are covered with stained glass, in the summer months the heat of the sun is conveyed to the house interior by the stained glass and the sheers are drawn to prevent that. What works beautifully in winter, sees the reverse in summer.

Yesterday we had an especially long ravine hike, and it's just as well we did, since there was no opportunity today. Jackie and Jillie are mollified by the presentation of their usual after-hike bowl of fresh vegetables, but we acutely feel that something is missing from the day. 

 Yesterday we had a macaroni-and-cheese casserole for a change, with a fresh vegetable salad. It felt kind of springlike. I used whole-wheat pasta, and when I was preparing the choux, added marble cheddar, and lots of pepper and dry mustard. When it was done, I added sliced green onions and mixed it all into the cooked macaroni. Then I layered the pasta with frozen green peas atop which I spread canned pink salmon and the final top layer of pasta. Breadcrumbs and Parmesan cheese over the top, it was popped into the oven, and dinner was done.

We have at our disposal as it were today, an irresistibly glorious mid-spring day, offering a little bit of everything. Some sun, some wind, some warming temperatures, and some opportunities finally to begin planning a summer garden. When we toddled up the street with Jackie and Jillie today, heading for the ravine, we stopped to talk with neighbours, finally out of their houses, released from the suffocating feeling of the lockdown, while still observing the need to maintain social distancing.

Earlier in the day, we were ourselves busy in the house. My husband to sweep out the garage floor and await the arrival of a service man who visits local homes to change winter tires back to all-purpose tires. He works full-time as a mechanic for the RCMP and has established a private business for himself taking appointments to arrive at one's home to change those tires, fall and spring. Up to several years ago my husband did all this himself.

And then he agreed that he'd have it done at Canadian Tire. Our neighbour and good friend Mohindar had taken to using the services of this man, however, and as a result of lockdown and the awkwardness of my husband having to walk back and forth to retrieve his vehicles in previous years from the Canadian Tire garage, it just seemed more sensible to have it all done right at home for a very modest price. I had succeeded in persuading my husband to call for an appointment and the man was happy to oblige.

While my husband was busy involved in getting that spring chore done, I took the opportunity to continue my spring cleaning, and now I haven't many kitchen cupboards, clothes cupboards, bathroom vanities left to empty and clean, then re-establish some order by placing everything back where they belong. Nor winter garments to wash and set aside for another year. Jackie and Jillie amused themselves by either following me around or snoozing in their favourite spots.

And then, all done, we left for our daily perambulation on the forest trails. Where we came across quite a few people wandering about, asking directions to this or that street. And despite the sometime-inconvenience of having to wait for people to pass and distance ourselves in the process in junctions in the trail system, we enjoyed a few unusual experiences.

Jillie becomes so excited when she sees people and strange dogs about that she barks up a racket and strains to be free of her leash. We had put lighter, spring-weight harnesses on Jackie and Jillie, when we retired their winter gear, and when she becomes so aroused, she somehow manages to sleep free of the halter. She did this on two occasions, and finally my husband gave up and locked her leash onto her collar.

When we were down by the creek at the bottom of the ravine, as we turned a corner in fuller view of the water we disturbed another type of visitor. A great blue heron lifted off from the water, gracefully rose and slowly disappeared into the forest canopy beyond where we stood in awe as it flew on. A brief encounter that permitted no photographic opportunity.

A few women we encountered for whom my husband carefully described the exit route they were looking for, told us excitedly that they had seen a barred owl. Now, that's something to be excited about, too. They were unaccustomed to walking such distances on natural terrain, much less trails that rose and fell from heights to depths in the ravine, and were anxious to find their way out.

There are now more trout lilies in bloom, and trilliums, along with woodland violets. We saw the first of the baneberry shrubs emerging, and false Solomon's seals, and ferns are slowly, gracefully unfurling. A brilliantly piercing, melodic trill of a cardinal alerted us to its near presence and I tried to photograph the beautiful bird, but it's easier intended than succeeded.

Back out on the street after our circuit on the forest trails, once again we stopped to talk at distance with neighbours, some of whom had used on-line ordering and curb pick-up to gather together some beautifully colourful bedding plants to begin their planting for this long Victoria Day weekend, the traditional time to plant in this area. We've still not decided how we will ourselves go about acquiring all the annual, summer-blooming plants we ordinarily use for our garden.

Some of the first of the tulips are now beginning to bloom in our garden. And looking up at the tallest branches of our magnolia tree which now reaches to the roof of the house, we could see among the hundreds of flower buds some have begun to open, their bright carmine colour brilliant against the sun, preparatory to breaking out in full magnificent bloom.

It's a real challenge often to to think of what to prepare for dinnertime. There are the standard items and variations on a theme, as it were, and there are dinners that I don't make too often but which we like well enough. And one of them is quiche. My husband is an egg-lover and we both love cheese, and quiche has both these ingredients, along with many others. Usually on a busy day, among which I certainly count house-cleaning day I plan on making something less fussy, not time-consuming, but after we returned from our afternoon hike through the forest yesterday I decided to just go ahead and make a quiche.

It's quick work for me to make a crust and for quiche I usually prepare one a little thicker than the usual. This time I thought since we had some sliced ham, I'd put some of that into the quiche, along with sliced green onion and asparagus, for a change. I used about a cup of grated old cheddar, and sprinkled the ham and vegetables over, then whipped up four large eggs, adding a half-cup of 10% milk, and lots of freshly grated black pepper. A last-minute thought had me add a dollop of Worcester sauce and then into the oven it went, ready about 40 minutes later for dinner.

A trip out to the backyard with Jackie and Jillie, in between cleaning out more kitchen cupboards in my spring cleaning routine this morning was rewarding. An annually-appearing little patch of anemones was in full bloom, bright and perky, blooming well before the tulips just now beginning to send up their heads. And in the rock garden periwinkles beginning their bright blue blooms. The anemones that come up in the ravine will be at least a month later. 

Today I thought I'd do a small corned beef roast, easy to prepare though it has a long simmering time. I'll serve it with cous-cous and spinach. We still need some rib-sticking meals with night-time temperatures going well below freezing. And the wind, the incessant, aggressive wind, making the high of 10C today seem infinitely colder than it was. All the more so when the sun went scurrying behind clouds. Despite which once we were in the woods and striding along the trails with Jackie and Jillie, our traipsing brisky along becomes a warming exercise.

Now that the week-end has passed we encounter far fewer people on the trails, and bicyclists as well. It's relieving that most people are respectful of one another, maintaining a responsibly careful distance. And most bicyclists whether they're teens or older people are generally well aware of the civility of courtesy on the trails, exercising good judgement about waiting for others to pass and allowing them safe passage.

Yesterday and again today, although fewer people were about and that's a bit of a relief, we experienced some unfortunate encounters with bicyclists. These were mature men who most surely should know better, passing at very close range, silently, with no warning they're approaching behind us. With two small dogs on leashes and on narrow portions of the trail network, these incidents could turn out unhappily.

The main trails have ample room, but even there, people should be sensible enough to know that if they're going at considerable speed they owe it to others to ensure their presence is anticipated so other people can take steps to avoid contact with them; all the more so with dogs on leashes. One pair of male cyclists stopped at the crest of one of the  hills, one of the bicycles sprawled directly on the trail, leaving no passage room on either side, while the bicyclist was adjusting something on his back wheel.

These encounters are unfortunate, and leave a pretty poor impression of the state of mind of some people feeling they're entitled to do anything, including whatever impairs other peoples' enjoyment of shared landscapes. Our experience over the decades with bicyclists in the ravine has been quite positive for the most part, with civility extended on both sides, including developing friendships.

The situation of the lockdown with the emergency response to the novel coronavirus is a grim one, but it can only be made more miserable by selfishly behaving in a manner that is certain to inconvenience others, and even threaten their well-being by inconsiderate dolts whose presence in any society others must put up with.