We've run out of the store-bought on-sale bread that my husband buys especially to toast and cube for the wildlife. Coincidentally, because we cannot access the quality of bread that he prefers to eat himself, since we have confined ourselves to shopping only every other week and only at one source, he has been baking the kinds of bread he most prefers with the use of his old bread-making machine. Yesterday afternoon another one was plucked out of the machine. And this morning while I still slept he went down to the kitchen to put on another.

An interesting side-issue of the coronavirus lockdown is that now, more than ever, we two spend far more together time in the kitchen during meal preparations. My husband bustles about preparing offerings for the wildlife, or baking breads, while I go about preparing our dinner and that of our two little dogs. They are served their dinner; the main course followed by their never-fail vegetable salads, and then it's our turn to eat.

Our turn yesterday consisted of a pasta dish, which was taking a chance on my part, although truth told, I had consulted first with my husband, since he notoriously enjoys only spaghetti and occasionally lasagne; no other types of pasta need apply, other than when I use fine egg noodles to bake a noodle-egg-raisin pudding to accompany a poultry dish. If he had his way he'd be served rice for every meal daily.

I love pasta in any form. I'd seen a recipe for bow-tie pasta with green peas and ham, and mentioned it to my husband and he said it sounded interesting, why didn't I give it a try? So I did, only I deviated somewhat, adding a white sauce to a recipe that only called for chopped onion and garlic sauteed in olive oil as the 'sauce'. I otherwise was true to the original. Adding frozen peas and diced ham. First though, I melted butter in a saucepan, added dry mustard and lots of pepper, then flour, then hot milk to form a thick sauce into which I melted a cup and a half of old Cheddar.

Then I added the al-dente-cooked bow-ties as well as the peas and the ham, spooned it all into a waiting casserole dish, sprinkled over Panko, then Parmesan cheese and baked it in a 350F oven until it was bubbling and brown-crusted around the edges. I loved it, my husband said it was really good, then picked at the plate, leaving most of the bow-ties themselves uneaten. No.more.pasta!

When we set out with Jackie and Jillie for our afternoon walk, we discovered the presence of an  unused garden compost bag that had blown from somewhere into our garden. The day has been  overcast, with heavy winds gusting now and again; the logo on the bag is not from anywhere we shop, but we'll use it for the purpose for which it was intended.

I suppose because it's been such a blustery day, albeit temperature-mild and heavily overcast, fewer people appeared on the evidence interested in wandering through the forest trails today, so we encountered far fewer people on foot and on bicycle than we did yesterday, which wasn't at all hard to take. We did come across other people with their companion dogs and there's always pleasure in that as the dogs introduce themselves to one another, mostly civilly.

Although everything at this time of year in the forest looks stark, devoid of green, no vegetation yet emerged from the forest floor to form the bracken underbrush, looking about for proof that the process has begun is irresistible. I thought, why wouldn't we see the first of the trilliums emerging, even while I admonished myself that it was far too early; possibly next week. And then, next thing I knew, there was a trillium, barely free of the soil, nestling close to the trunk of a tree. We were amazed.

Further along, ferns were making their presence known. And surprise! It seems the honeysuckle bushes too are beginning to leaf out. The catkins on the hazelnut shrubs are growing longer and lighter, and tiny pink buds can be seen toward the ends of their branches. Just as we were rounding up our hike for the day, there was a tiny woolly bear caterpillar on the pathway. My husband stopped long enough to lift it gently into his palm, to deposit it beyond the path into the density of the forest where it would be safe from being stepped upon.

And then, when we arrived home, and I peered briefly around the garden to try to see what might be happening there, well there was something notable happening. A small clump of several trilliums, their flower buds already in evidence, prepared in a day or two to burst into full flower and glorious colour!