I've been nudging my husband for years to get himself a new computer. Jackie, when he was a few months old had taken a liking to the computer and had chewed off some of its keys. My husband was more careful after that, where he left his mini laptop and just dismissed the nuisance of the missing keys; they weren't critical. Since then the computer has groaned on for three more years, cantankerous and opinionated. It obviously felt entitled to behave badly whenever the mood seemed to strike.

More latterly frequent messages of no more space popped up. So I began deleting a whole lot of stuff that had been downloaded. My husband has never been attentive to the need to clean up files from time to time; computer-housekeeping never very high in his list of to-dos.  It was good for another six months. Then those same messages reappeared and I checked the defragmentation option along with deleting files, and neither responded, so we drew the conclusion that the clapped-out old computer was corrupted beyond any hoped-for remediation on our part.

He went shopping yesterday, after scrutinizing the chain stores' advertising for their electronic devices. He does this kind of thing anyway, every week, knowing he would eventually have to relent and spring for a replacement, but now the decision had been forced upon him. So he brought back his new mini laptop. He'd done his due diligence on online sites to determine what might best serve his purposes. And price was a decided factor; he hadn't any intention of buying something pricey. To begin with he uses his computer for listening to lectures; cultural, social, political and at night, drawing on old police drama series from Britain, Germany, Norway.

With Windows 10, Cortana made the initial set up as a ]wizard instructor' really easy through voice commands. And the rest was up to me, since I'm a little better versed in computer use than my husband, (which isn't saying much), so I set him up and tutored him in the basics of that version of Window. We use our computers frequently, he and I, he mostly for information and entertainment, me for news and blogging. We don't ever watch television though we borrow films from the public library to view once a week. We are, however, avid book readers, always have been and always will be. Neither of us can imagine a life without books. Informatively, entertainingly, spurring cerebral function, building vocabulary, becoming a more well-balanced human being...all of that and more.

Our love of reading is matched by our love of the out-of-doors, and though our age now inhibits us from the kind of strenuous physical action we once took in mountain climbing, wilderness camping, canoeing and hiking, our daily ritual is never complete without a good vigorous hike in the ravine close to where our house is located. And that's where our little dogs, Jackie and Jillie, come in, as spurs to that commitment and as treasured companions in a shared occupation of touching nature.

Yesterday's hike took place under a full, blue sky, the sun glinting its golden rays through the forest canopy, on a -4C-degree day of wind that had picked up to the point where it felt like being lashed when it struck across our faces as we progressed across a criss-cross of forest trails, having decided we would take a longer-than-usual circuit for our winter walk, given more clement winter conditions then we've experienced of late this winter.

At one point we came across a miniature poodle, the size and colour of one we're more familiar with named Max, and this little fellow was just beside himself with exuberant joy to be out in the woods, romping off in all directions, stopping briefly for a tussle with Jackie before sprinting off again. His human told us how guilty he felt about not taking his little charge out more frequently this winter and his surprise at discovering the presence of the ravine though he'd lived in the neighbourhood for years. It was bringing a puppy into his home that alerted him to the necessity to find places where his little dog could be free to enjoy a natural surrounding.

We, on the other hand, knew 27 years ago before we moved to our current house, that the ravine existed since it can be seen in all its summer-green leafy glory from the street we live on. We found the trails in the forest after dipping into the ravine wonderfully inviting to the point where we no longer felt so compelled to get into the car to drive to other destinations we frequented, like Gatineau Park over in Quebec, in its vast and natural setting of lakes and forests where we introduced our children to hiking, canoeing, snowshoeing and skiing when they were young, forty years ago.