It's become our new summer routine when we awake to a bright, hot day to immediately prepare ourselves to exit the house with Jackie and Jillie and head straight for the ravine entrance up the street. For the obvious reason of having our cake and eating it, too. In the sense that it would be foolhardy to emerge in mid-afternoon as usual for a foray through the forest when the temperature tops 30C; preferentially an early morning gambit does the trick, when the forest is still relatively cool. Works for Jackie and Jillie, and for us, too.

By the time we've spent an hour, hour-and-a-half wandering the trails and return home, our garden looks ready to greet the heat of the day, with a little help from our watering cans, and our puppies are more than anxious to have their breakfast. They're treated to a little tidbits of cheese, but have to wait until we take our shower, and then we're all prepared for breakfast. Fussy Jackie is eager for his breakfast, unlike many mornings when he spurns it.

Yesterday morning we happened upon a young rabbit at the top of the ravine. This morning as we prepared to descend, a woman on a bicycle with a small cocker spaniel panting as they both ascended, passed us. The woman looked about as sour as anyone could, not enjoying what they're doing. She was not young, white-haired but trim. Between us, my husband and me, we remarked how ill-thought-out it is for anyone to ride a bicycle with a dog running alongside in this kind of hot, humid weather.

And we ventured on, as the incident left our minds and we turned our attention to the landscape before us, with the reduced volume of water in the creek, the new vegetation crowding its banks, the stillness of the atmosphere, with barely a hint of a breeze. We had anticipated thunderstorms yesterday but they failed to materialize. When we were relaxing after dinner last night, fireworks began their Canada Day celebrations, with constant sharp pops, alerting our little dogs that something unusual was happening.

At midnight, when we went up to bed, we realized that just at the turn of the street down from our house, two massive articulated fire trucks were parked on the street, red lights blazing and strobing the dark night. We speculated whether fireworks had backfired in the sense that sparks had caused a roof fire, but were unable to detect any signs of a fire. And in a few moments the fire trucks were gone.

After we had ascended and descended a number of hills to reach a plateau where we usually forge on to a long loop through the forest, we met up with a familiar of ours, another long-time trail hiker and there was the obligatory stop to chat awhile. And while we did that deep in conversation, along came that same woman on her bicycle, and that same little cocker spaniel, bravely trying to keep up, obviously flagging with the heat and the unwarranted energy output.

There are times when my husband is wont to produce a remark best left unsaid, and certainly not loud enough for someone the remark refers to, to hear. And this was one of those times. The woman bridled at being referred to as an uncaring dog owner, snapping back that she was a 'dog trainer'. To which my husband responded, what kind of dog trainer would expose a small animal to the stress of a forced run on such a hot day?

That comment, aided by the word 'stupid', unleashed a torrent of shrieking that she was being abused, a woman alone in the woods, she claimed, attacked by a man, why isn't anyone (referring to our friend) calling the police?! All the while she was snarling and screaming, gesticulating and dancing about, attempting to place herself ever physically closer to my husband, who kept backing away. She screamed that she could beat him up, a truly astonishing threat, then reverted to screeching about being abused by a strange man, and why isn't anyone coming to her rescue? Our friend suggested she simply walk away. I asked her to stop spoiling her day and ours.

Another man came by and she immediately corralled him, screaming vociferously that she was being abused, attacked, and no one was doing anything about it, and please call the police! The man looked at her, looked at us, clearly puzzled. We shrugged, and walked on, bidding farewell to our friend. As we walked on, her virago-like voice followed us, shrilly accusatory and violently hysterical.

And then, shortly afterward, who did we see approaching us from the opposite direction but our dear neighbours, Mohindar and Rajinder, accompanied by their three grandchildren and the children's new little puppy. They're visiting from Toronto, and our neighbours are beside themselves with happiness, being able to revel in the extended company of those beautiful children, doting on them as they had their own children. A tonic for any kind of emotional disturbance occasioned by any untoward incident.

Later, in the early afternoon, my husband went out when the sun had been eclipsed by clouds that had suddenly moved in, and a gentle sprinkle of rain was falling, to water the garden pots, surely suffering from heat exhaustion. And I decided, given the heat of the day that a potato salad was called for as a refreshing evening meal, and set about preparing it, with the considerable help of Jackie and Jillie, who did their best to offer to taste cherries and strawberries (for dessert), bell pepper, and snap peas.

They were most enthusiastic about taste-testing the tuna, to ensure it ranked as having sufficient quality of taste and texture to be included in the potato salad. Now we're assured, given their approval, that the meal this evening will pass even our taste-test.