It's been quite a roller-coaster of a day. The weather for one thing. A change in our usual routine for another. That'll do it. We woke at 6:00 am with the intention of waking at that hour. To us now at our age it is an unreasonable hour to rise from a warm and comfortable bed. All the more appreciated that the temperature dipped below freezing again last night.

It's why my husband keeps putting food out for the wildlife that come to our porch. Last night, just as dusk was beginning to bring the dark cloak of night to its fullness, there was the smaller of the two raccoons that come around nightly. We surmise there are two, there might be more. Last year we identified quite a number of different ones including a mother with her cubs. Jackie and Jillie alerted us to his presence, barking at the little crittur (considerably larger than they are). For his part, the raccoon paid no mind to the racket they were making. Instead, he would pause frequently, alert to sudden noises from the street.

Bit of a tangent there. In any event, we got up however reluctantly, at a time of the early morning which, when we were working was routine. Now, in our retirement, routine is awakening two hours later. We looked after the puppies' needs, set the table for breakfast and set off for our usual supermarket to do the grocery shopping, leaving Jackie and Jillie devastated as usual that we are so heartless, leaving them temporarily to their own devices.

We arrived a few minutes before seven, and sat in the vehicle watching as others exited theirs and lined up (the hour from 7 to 8 in the morning delegated for seniors or the handicapped), spaced apart, awaiting the opening of the supermarket doors. We joined them when the first handful in the lineup were permitted to enter. In fact there weren't that many people waiting, no more than twenty altogether. But it took another ten-fifteen minutes before we were allowed entry. The store employees wait until the congestion at the front of the store clears as people begin to wander off to different areas in the store to avoid clustering.

And while we waited, we froze. It was still below freezing, but the wind had picked up considerably and it was frigid. Once inside the store we each began gathering what we needed for another two weeks before we'd shop again. Avocados, oranges, lettuce, bell peppers, were all in the first display and then we moved further into the fruits and vegetables aisles, co-ordinated and determined to maintain distance, take care with what our (gloved) hands come in contact with and fanned out to the various departments, finding everything in good order, the shelves well packed with food.

Oddly enough, for the first time in over a month there were jars and packets of yeast on the shelves. But no flour; no matter the type, the brand, the size, no flour to be had at all. Fortunately we didn't need any of either; I always have a good reliable supply of yeast and flour on hand in the pantry; when they run low, and before they run out, we bring home new supplies.

Once home, the drama and recriminations of re-uniting with our little dogs. Once we apologize sufficiently for abandoning them, they're mollified and we all get on with life. Us to shower and prepare breakfast, them to share breakfast with us once they've had their own. Oh, I forgot; before we went up to shower after the prolonged agony of unpacking the groceries, washing things down with soapy water, from packaging to bags to countertops, we stopped, arrested at the scene unfolding before us as we looked out the front door.

Snowing. Heavily. Enough so that there was plenty down everywhere, presenting us with an as-yet unforgotten spectacle of what winter looks like. Mind, an hour later as the temperature rose to 2C, the snow began melting. And by the afternoon when we were thinking of going out for a hike on the forest trails, we'd had rain alternating with brief bursts of sun. It was merely drizzling when we left the house, but as we made our way through the ravine trails, drenched and muddy, the sun came out now and again when it wasn't raining.

One minute the sky was dark and moody, the next light and fully illuminated. The wind had decreased in volume and pressure, and it soon became evident we wouldn't be coming across many other people out and about because only lunatics like us will head out to the forest when it's raining well before the rain-protective leafy canopy of the forest has become a reality.

Later, I decided to make an onion-tomato-cheese pie for dinner. I haven't made one in ages. Last night I had made baked beans for dinner, and of course that takes hours of cooking. Usually I do the beans several times over the winter, but had neglected to do so this winter. My husband suggested he'd like sausages in the beans as an accompaniment, so I sliced smoked sausages into the beans (they'd been downstairs in the freezer for quite some while) just before the dish was ready for dinner. For today's pie I used rosemary and basil for flavouring. Layers of sliced onions gently fried in olive oil, placed in a freshly-prepared pie shell, with sliced tomatoes over, lots of pepper, grated old cheddar, and then the top crust, to be baked until good and crisp.

Unbaked pie