As though we needed official verification, Canada's chief climatologist with Environment Canada has been quoted on the news affirming that April of 2020 is shaping up to be the coolest on record, across the country, one end to the other, from the Maritimes to the Rocky Mountains and beyond. And while at the opposite end of the country British Columbia has had an unusual dearth of rain this year, here in Central Canada we've had a more than ample supply. Coming down in sheets of rain, freezing rain, ice pellets, and plain old rain.

Last night when we went up to bed the temperature had already fallen below -4C, and snow was once again accumulating. My husband estimated about a 1/2 inch of it on the grass in the backyard, although he might have been exaggerating. However, by one this afternoon, not all of the snow had yet melted under the clear blue sky -- the one weather element that cheered us up today -- and the wind was ferocious.

A tiny song sparrow that has taken to coming to our porch alternately with crows and a pair of cardinals and the occasional chickadee, greeted us as we came down for breakfast this morning. My husband had roused himself out of bed just after six to come down and re-stock the larder on the porch floor, then got back into bed and fell back asleep. Whatever he puts out before we go up to bed is invariably gone several hours later, thanks to the voracious appetite of the visiting raccoons.

It's been so incredibly cold, hardly seems like spring. Mealtimes challenges me for something different to put on the table. And I thought yesterday, why not a tomato-onion-cheese pie. I've made it often in the past, but not lately. So that's what I prepared for yesterday's dinner, inspired by my memory of how comforting a dish it is. Takes no time to prepare a crust, and while I did that the four onions I had thinly sliced sprinkled over with Rosemary and pepper, were gently being sauteed in olive oil.

I sliced up a huge hothouse tomato, then grated about one-and-a-half cups of old Cheddar. Rolled out the bottom crust, fitted it into the pottery pie dish our youngest son had made for me aeons ago, then piled the onions into it, layered the tomatoes over, sprinkled sweet Basil, and covered it all with the grated cheese. And finally fitted the top crust over, fluted the edges, fork-pricked the top, and stuck it into a small counter-top oven at 350 to bake for 40 minutes.

Like yesterday, when we did go out fairly early this afternoon, the wind and the high for the day of -2C, made it seem little different from an average winter day for cold, despite the clear blue sky and the warmth of the sun. We decided to dress the puppies in snug woollen sweaters, part of their wardrobe bequeathed to them by their predecessors, our beloved Button and Riley. We dressed a bit warmer ourselves.  And found when we got out into the ravine that we were just adequately dressed against the cold and the rampant wind.

In fact, by the time we were out about a half-hour I realized the gloves I was wearing were no match for the inclemency of the day and my fingers felt on their way to frozen. That's when large pockets come in handy. Very few people out and about on the forest trails, obviously unconvinced that a trek through the forest on a day this cold could offer them nothing. They were wrong, in our opinion, since despite the cold and the fact that some of the puddles on the trail and on the forest floor had reverted to ice, reflecting the atmospheric conditions.

We enjoyed ourselves, Jackie and Jillie certainly did. They gave us every indication before we even set out this afternoon that they were anticipating the woodland hike, and once out there the signals of two little dogs immersed in pleasurable activity were loud and clear. Throughout our hike the wind sounded like a freight train tearing through the forest canopy.