The hugely odd fact that Ottawa will not have a white Christmas, since there is not a scintilla of snow on the ground whereas the average Ottawa winter at this time of year generally boasts a snowpack of at least 51 centimetres accumulated over November and December, quite affirms that this has been a peculiarly puzzling winter thus far. Our temperatures continue to rise above freezing throughout the day and often just barely nudge frost levels at night.

For the past several days another pattern has emerged, of light rain during the morning hours turning to steady rain in the afternoon. Had this been a true Ottawa winter the rain that has fallen incessantly over the past few months would have come down as snow. Instead we are treated to freezing rain episodes, and light snow dustings that melt in the blink of an eye.

We had our ravine walk early this morning, preferring to be in the woods in a light shower, avoiding the rain destined to pour through the afternoon. The days have been dark and brooding, as though fewer daylight hours at this time of  year isn't punishment enough for what winter always gifts us with. We'd had to venture out last night in the rain and wind and it was dark and miserable. I had a dental appointment to replace a weary filling that had decided to separate its long relationship with a tooth and the sad separation felt like a canyon had suddenly appeared in my mouth. The young woman who has been our dentist for the past decade after the retirement of the old one is far more skilled, gentle, capable and efficient than the old dentist ever had been, but the new tools of modern dentistry certainly go a long way to making such visits less stressful.

After our walk, Jack and Jill were given baths. Mostly because we wanted to ensure that the charcoal treatment that Jackie had been exposed to during his weekend hospital stay which left hard clumps on his haircoat would be taken care of. While Jillie is being bathed Jackie is frantic with concern and when she's being dried while another tubful of water is being run for his bath, his concern is only accelerated; the few times we ever hear him whine. Each, once immersed partially in the water, become calm and patient, allowing me to wash them thoroughly. But once the process has been completed, they gallop through the house together with renewed vigour, enlivened by the procedure; being wet seems to electrically animate our little fellows.