A parcel awaited us in the group mailbox yesterday afternoon when Irving retrieved a key in our mail slot to open one of the two parcel compartments and there we found a gift from our son in Vancouver. Two sets of measuring cups, sizes ranging from a full cup on down to a 1/4 cup, six in all, three on each of two racks he made to hold them. He used a combination of cherry and sumac for the cup handles, and gave them a really hard finish, with the same sealing lacquer he had used when he finished his kayak.

They're sleek and elegant looking, and I'll be loathe to use them for fear of marring their perfect finishes, but when I do use them, I'll do so with care. He's made so many practical, utilitarian yet beautiful things for my use in the kitchen, from rolling pins to wood mixing and stirring spoons, and so many glazed pottery casserole dishes, bowls and teapots. Irving hung the measuring cups and they now gleam above either side of the stove under the fan, appended to cupboard walls.

It's turned out to be yet another in a series of beautiful winter days. Relatively mild at -4C, but the cutting wind makes up for that. The sun sits high in the sky and hangs there like the incredible ceiling chandelier it is, fpr far longer in the day now, illuminating everything below to a perfection of bright beauty. Its rays are now so warm they're doing a fine job melting the snow from the last two snowstorms sitting on the metal-topped canopy over the deck.

Which is double good news, since when the sun melts the load of snow it means Irving doesn't have to put up a ladder and use a telescoping roof shovel to rake it all off manually. He's done more than enough shovelling in the backyard to free up space on the walkways for Jackie and Jillie to be comfortable out there. Yet another bonus the sun brings to us, along with heating up the house interior through the medium of streaming through the stained glass windows that become very warm to the touch, radiating heat throughout the house.

Yesterday's snow was being whipped off trees this afternoon when we entered the ravine for our daily roustabout through the forest trails. Before setting out we wondered vaguely whether, since it is Saturday, the trails would be well used by people throughout the wider community coming out to enjoy a relaxed hike through the woods. When it's really cold, overcast and windy there doesn't tend to be too many people willing to face the elements so much as on days like today.

So there they were, in front of us, behind us, seen in the distance on other trails either approaching or retreating. To all of which Jackie and Jillie react most disagreeably. There are always people coming through we're unfamiliar with and if we're not familiar with them, neither are Jackie and Jillie and their job, they think as custodians of the forest is to vet everyone who has the gall to enter their private preserve. Which can be a tedious exercise in admonishing two little dogs wjp couldn't care less what we think about their disgraceful behaviour.

The snowpack is deep and getting deeper with each snowfall. Right about now, it looks like it has reached the depth of an average winter accumulation. There have been many winters when the total received has raised the forest floor and the depth of the floor of the bridges considerably more. Still, when spring does arrive all that snow will begin to melt, to pour downhill into the creek which will swell and  ragingly sweep its way through the forest en route to the Ottawa River.

For now, we're enjoying it. Always a breath-catcher to enter the forest, embraced by its gloomy light that seems to enhance whatever little colour there is at this time of year. A monochromatic scene for the most part, with white and dark predominating until one peers a little closer and sees the green of pine needles, firs, spruce, hemlock and cedar.