There are two topics dominating the Internet, newsprint and airwaves today and they both have a global impact. It's hard to say at this point which deserves the most prominent spacing in the newspaper, though in fact one article after another and opinion piece focuses on just those two; COVID-19, its spread and breadth of carnage globally and President Donald Trump's incredible machinations guided by his ego.

Both of our newspapers were filled with depressing reports on both fronts. It seems quite possible that the man whose volatile utterances, decision-making and impact internationally may some day soon end up in a psychiatric ward somewhere: Walter Reid Hospital...? 

 News of the novel coronavirus having undergone some worrying mutations in the United Kingdom and South Africa that may take the shine off reports of vaccine production and distribution if it turns out to be resistant in some measure to the inoculations' efficacy a sombre note, just as the second wave is steadily increasing the number of cases and hospitals are being strained to their limits.

Older Canadians, called 'snowbirds' who often winter in Florida, and some who own properties in Florida, have not flocked as is their usual custom, to escape Canada's severe winter, not this year of COVID uncertainty. Yet some have done so irrespective of the advice from government and health authorities to remain at home for the time being until COVID has been placed under control, perhaps in another year. Their reason for doing otherwise, returning to winter in Florida is that Florida's vaccination program is so much more advanced than Canada's is, and Canadians who present in Florida obtain early inoculations there, while those remaining at home in Canada must wait. 

For us, life calls us to our daily routines. It's as good a way as any to remain sane. This morning I asked my husband which he'd prefer, a raisin pie or butter tarts. Actually, the only difference between the two as I make them is that the same filling goes into a one-crust pie, or alternately into individual tart shells. The latter just a bit fussier than the former. And, as I was filling the tart shells, since that was his stated preference, I discovered I had run out of paper cups. No harm done.

I thought I'd also put together a bread dough for challah, and just refrigerate it. Since I had a bit of cottage cheese left over from making blintzes, and not enough to do anything else with, I put it into the bread dough along with honey, salt and eggs. I'd used a milk base and ended up with a larger amount of dough than I'd reckoned on, since I was a little reckless with amounts (I never bother measuring anything), so the thought occurred I could bake cinnamon buns for breakfast on Sunday.

After we'd puttered about the house awhile, it was time for Jackie and Jillie to gather us all together and set out for a turn in the ravine on a beautiful winter day. Icy cold, with a high of -7C, and a biting wind, but sun-warmed and -lighted withal -- at least in the house. The street outside the house is now almost clear of its accumulated snow and ice, but where the ice remains, at this temperature it's fairly slippery. No concern for us with our cleats.

We left both the sun and the wind behind when we dipped into the ravine to begin our round of the forest trails. Just as we approached the entrance and as we were speaking with a neighbour, one of our ravine hiking friends pulled up to park  on the street, and out came his three Border Collies. So Jackie and Jillie had company for the  hour-and-half we were out on the trails.

Those three dogs have got to be the most intelligent and well trained we've ever known -- and we've known them all their lives. They're litter-mates and now 13 years old. One of the males has lost almost all of his hearing, and he's the one who tends to lope ahead, although even from a distance he frequently turns around to look back to see where the others are, and to wait to allow them to catch up before he outdistances them again. Our friend often tells one of the others to bark a high-pitched yip when he's worried about the dog's whereabouts and he tends to respond quickly, swiftly returning.

The beauty of the day was irresistible to a lot of people, and we kept coming across them. And so at some choke points there gathered as many as eight dogs of various breeds and sizes, milling about, some chasing their pals, some just re-acquainting, while their humans exchanged messages, greetings and community talk -- in fact today the talk was mostly consumed with those two items of news that has concentrated peoples' minds on a world gone mad.