Monday is house-cleaning day in this household. For the past several months my husband has insisted he would do the vacuuming while I do the dusting of furniture and objects sitting on them of which we have far too many, as well as the dry-mopping of hardwood floors followed by pail-and-hand-sponge washing of the bathroom floors, laundry room, kitchen and breakfast room. It's the furniture-and-object dusting that takes the lion's share of time and effort. What I mind least is getting down on my knees and hand-washing the floors.

Taking on the vacuuming has meant that a large segment of my cleaning time has been removed, and I've appreciated it even while I've regretted it. I certainly didn't want him to do the vacuuming today while his knee is still recovering, but he insisted and no contrary argument moves him when he insists on doing something. And then he suggested we plan for a hike in the ravine this afternoon when the housework was completed.

I was adamant that he wait at least another day or two before attempting the hilly terrain. He was equally adamant that it would be fine, and in the end, out we went. Jackie and Jillie seemed rather phlegmatic about it, the routine of dressing them up and preparing them with boots and harness. As though they had adopted an attitude that they they could 'take it or leave it', even while we've felt so guilty about their having missed four days of being out on the forest trails.

But this day was irresistible, just a perfect winter day, so mild that the snow of yesterday morning was melting quickly off the deck canopy. The sun was playing peekaboo all day; blazing in the sky amidst clouds awhile, then retiring behind a greater proliferation of clouds. A slight wind, but so mild at 3C that my husband felt we just had to get out with our two little dogs. And so we did.

My husband carried a ski pole for a bit of an assist with his right leg, and to his surprise it wasn't at all ascending the hills that was difficult, but descending them. So we hiked along a little slower than usual, and Jackie and  Jillie thought they were obliging us by energetically pulling on their leashes to haul us uphill and doing the same for our downhill efforts, leaving the ridge for the lower portions of the ravine.

The trails were in fine shape. We came across women on two separate occasions, each walking a rambunctious puppy, both black, both about 12 weeks old, curious about everything and everyone, cavorting here and there, just little heart-stealers. One was a Portuguese Water dog, the other a miniature Schnauzer and Jackie and Jillie courteously introduced themselves to these young ones, no doubt imparting to them some hints on their developing social lives.

It wasn't a particularly lengthy circuit that we took, but long enough for us to appreciate the cool, fresh air that we'd missed for too many days, and the bracing feeling of exercising our limbs in a beneficent atmosphere. On our return home, once back in the  house, Jackie and Jillie went a little berserk with one another, tumbling about in a frenzy of sudden action, grappling together, racing about; as though to make up for the fact they can no longer roam about on the forest trails freely as they've so long been accustomed to.

Then they lined up in front of the refrigerator to remind us they were ready for the afternoon treat, a post-hike delicacy, each awaiting a large cauliflower floret.