We had a real winter blast all day yesterday, snow just kept coming down, the wind grew fiercer as the day progressed, and we were glad we'd gone out early in the morning for a tramp through the snowy woods rather than wait as usual for the afternoon when we usually venture out. The forecast was for snow to end around five, but even at eight it was still coming down. We kept putting peanuts out for the squirrels, noting that crows and chickadees were also coming about picking up peanuts. Their food sources become awkwardly compromised with weather like this and could use a pick-me-up.

My husband was determined to wait it out before doing any serious snow-clearing. He had cleared passage in the backyard for Jackie and Jillie three times during the day, the first time at 7:00 in the morning. By 8:30 p.m. he decided he'd finally get out with the snow blower and shovels and clear away the snow at the front of the house. Needless to say he was out for quite a length of time. And though when we'd gone out for our trek in the morning at 0C, by the time evening arrived it was -10C.

Today though it's cold we have the sun back to glare at the mounds of snow. The road in front of the house is thick with snow and ice again. Snow mounds on people's lawns average four feet in depth but can be higher in places. We bundled ourselves up good and warm and headed out with Jackie and Jillie right after breakfast. Which isn't saying much, given that I cleaned up the kitchen, made the bed and looked to a few other household tasks before we left.

As well dressed in snow the forest was yesterday after a full night of snowfall, this morning it was even more snow-blanketed and cold at -8C, with boughs of trees bent low under the weight of the snow. Wind had brought down smaller branches and detritus from the trees that littered the forest floor. The creek was running full again, not yet frozen over with the introduction of this new cold front. The sun glared brightly through it all and the light was so bright you could well understand why mountaineers in the Himalaya or Alaska run the risk of snow blindness at upper elevations.

We'd gone out earlier with Jackie and Jillie because we were anxious to keep an appointment for them at the 'spa' we take them to. It's adjacent and connected to the veterinary hospital where they're also regularly taken for yearly checkups and inoculations. The spa was actually the old hospital. A new one had been built, much larger to accommodate the growing need for such services, and the spa was a new initiative that had grown out the expansion, so there are a number of small rooms where client dogs are sequestered rather than have them all milling about together.

That works well for Jackie and Jillie; when we approach the facility to pick them up, they're always peering out the window to spot us arriving, their tails wagging like metronomes and we can hear Jackie's imperious barking urging us to get along a little faster.

They were becoming so shaggy we wondered where our two little imps had disappeared to. We knew they were in there somewhere. Their grooming revealed them and they were overjoyed to leap back into our arms. We were happy to see them rather more refined than raffish. They had become so hairy their winter coats had become too tight. Their nails were piercing their rubber winter boots. They were leaving little black clumps of hair on the rugs, in their beds and anywhere else they happened to scratch themselves.

The downside of that, of course, is that the grown-in haircoat also served to keep them warmer on these icy and windy winter days. So they'll have to acclimate a bit now, though something tells me they won't much notice the difference. They were happy to be back home, and demanded treats, and nothing pleases them as much as raw cauliflower, and that's what they got.