Routine and familiar dishes aside, it's always a bit of a head-scratcher to come up with something a little different to put on the table at dinnertime. It's still wintry out, still cold, still plenty of snow around, windy and with all the reminders of a stubborn winter reluctant to leave. So comfort-type food helps to distract, all the more so now that the world is faced with the dilemma that COVID-19 has presented us with.

The daily news is one long string of horrendous news. How can the infection rate and death of so many be assimilated into one's understanding of the threat to the state of the world's health today, an abrupt departure from our focus on societal upsets around the world, the kind of vicious, violent destabilization that has produced so many refugees in various parts of the world? And then, everything put on hold while the focus is on a dreadfully communicable disease, a pathogen that has placed all countries on notice that no one is immune.

We need all the little mood pick-ups that come our way. So yesterday, I thought of a noodle/cheese casserole. My husband doesn't care for macaroni, the traditional type of pasta used in such dishes, but he does like egg noodles, so I thought I'd give it a try, last evening. I cooked the noodles, placed them in a strainer, then made the choux with 1/4 c.butter, 2 tbsp.flour, 1 tsp.dry mustard, ground lots of pepper cloves into it, added a cup of milk, and stirred until it thickened, then added a cup of grated old cheddar cheese. In went the noodles, then 1/4 cup of sliced green onion, and a cup of frozen green peas.

All mixed together, it was poured into a casserole dish, the top smoothed, then bread crumbs sprinkled over, and over the bread crumbs, finely grated Parmesan cheese. It was baked for about 40 minutes at 350, and came out good and bubbly. I'd also prepared acorn squash as a side-dish to accompany the casserole. And to my delight, my husband liked it, and ate almost all of what was on his plate. Beyond satisfying.

This morning when we came downstairs for breakfast we stopped, all four of us, at the front door. My husband had been down earlier to set out some peanuts and soda crackers for the squirrels. They'd had as much as they wanted for the time being, and in their place was a succession of chickadees and sparrows, coming along in an orderly fashion, one after another. Surprisingly for chickadees they seemed to prefer the crackers (unsalted) over the peanuts!

It was sunny, and there's nothing quite like a bright sunlit morning to start the day with, to feel its warmth streaming through the house windows, relaxing us as we enjoyed a long, leisurely breakfast of navel oranges, bananas, eggs, toast, tea and coffee. After they'd eaten their kibble breakfast, Jackie and Jillie had a scrambled egg divided between them as a treat. We've long had a habit, my husband and me, of reading the daily newspaper at the breakfast table. Now, my husband sets the papers aside, preferring to look at art magazines, while I read the news.

We set out in early afternoon for the ravine, but by then the sun had mostly gone in. Not long after we'd descended into the ravine, a chirpy little Brittany spaniel that we see on occasion came running down off another hillside to greet us, then scampered off into the creek, his human standing above on the trail we would soon access ourselves, waving hello.

At 10C, it was mild enough for all of us to surrender our heavy winter jackets for lighter ones. There are so many micro-climates throughout the forest that in some areas the snow has noticeably melted whereas in others it looks as though it's barely started. And in those areas, the cold from the packed ice and snow radiates upwards. For the most part, it's the hillsides that have shed a lot of their snow, however. The wind was up, just as it had been yesterday, blowing tree tops back and forth in a swaying dance as though the trees are appealing to spring to arrive.

There's been a lot more squirrel activity the last few weeks in the ravine, where we see black, grey and red squirrels bustling about -- their senses, like ours, awakened to the prospect of impending spring weather banishing those winter's elements we've all grown so tired of. We've seen them though, around our house throughout the course of the winter, looking for the food we put out for them, they've just been less visible in their more natural habitat.