Unbelievable -- for well over a year the world has been gripped in a COVID vice, squeezing the life out of people and the world-wide economy, creating desperation everywhere it strikes, and now that the miracle of a preventive vaccine is available, many people, even the most vulnerable to virus onset and death are unwilling to be inoculated against the pathogen. There is, for at least 40 percent of an entire population, little trust in science, evidently.

Ontario finally, to the great relief of its elderly population, has opened registration for appointments to be scheduled for vaccinations held at any number of temporary vaccine clinics. There were some initial glitches in registration but they appear to have been solved. Did the authorities think of the glitch in uptake that might eventuate? They're appealing to people to respond, to register, to receive their vaccinations because while they have thousands of open spots at the clinics for registration, they're going empty.

And furthermore, because some people have failed to show up for their appointed vaccination time, precious vaccines are going to waste. In addition, there is a problem from within the medical community itself whereby many there are loathe to, or refuse to be vaccinated. Among them personal care workers who are in daily contact with the demographic of health-compromised elderly requiring close and constant care.

A desperate situation has evolved in the last two weeks at Ottawa's Heart Institute where both patients and health workers have received their first dose of vaccine but in the interval between their first and second scheduled dose both patients and those administering to them at the hospital have contracted COVID-19. 

Under instruction from Canada's appointed National Advisory Committee on Immunization, the supply of vaccines has been 'stretched' from the manufacturer's fixed recommendation of several weeks between each dose, to an arbitrary four months in Ontario before the second dose is administered. This, in an effort to make the available vaccine doses stretch further so that many more people in the Canadian population can be inoculated than if the two-dose-two-week protocol is followed.

Interestingly, the hospital authority is calling upon the province to make an 'exception' for health workers and heart patients, to have their second dose stepped up immediately in light of the hospital's experience. Just as interesting is that two elderly retired physicians who have received their first dose, outraged at the decision to withhold the second dose for a four-month period rather than respecting the manufacturer's instructions, are suing the government presumably for a form of medical malpractise.

As for us, it will be a week Friday that we received our first dose. Our second is scheduled for mid-July; about 104 days' hence. We're grateful to have received the first dose and would be even more relaxed about the situation if we were to receive the second in another week. Everyone has aspirations of wishing to live to see another year.

It's raining again here. After yesterday's all-sun day and the full-day rain event of the day before that. The rain and more elevated temperatures have melted most of the snowpack from winter. And what's the weather forecast for the next several days? Well actually, snow, as the temperature continues to fluctuate wildly.

If that old ditty, 'Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailor's delight" is anything to go by, we shouldn't be having a rainy, windy and cool day today. Last evening as the sun was setting and twilight was just beginning to set in, we saw a blaze of red tinged with yellows across the sky. A nice way to cap off a sunny day to be sure, but it did not augur a fair day to follow, after all.

No ravine hike means a bit of extra time and since I've started the ritual of seasonal spring cleaning, and did half of the end-wall pantry in the kitchen yesterday, I cleaned out the second half today. That's just the beginning, there's tons more left to do. And it'll get done by-and-by. 

Britain ranks right up there in the successful nations efficiently administering anti-COVID-19 vaccines to its population; out of 25 countries in the top ratings out of possibly 160 countries coping with the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic it's right in the middle. A ranking of 14 in protecting its population, out of 160 contenders. And Canada? Just keep going further down, about number 32 should do it. Not a very admirable effort on the part of a first-world, technologically advanced, wealthy country. 

The United Kingdom produces its own AstraZeneca-Oxford vaccine, although it has also used Moderna and will acquire doses from Pfizer-BioNTech as well. Of the tens of millions of Brits vaccinated, no word of alarm over AstraZeneca possibly being the cause of blood clots. It was France, and then other countries in the European Union that first began having 'doubts', not over the vaccine's efficacy, but its safety. Claims that it was the cause of blood clots mostly in women -- actually less than a handful of cases -- had the EU call a pause in its use.

But then the EU's medical authority cleared AstraZeneca and its use resumed, qualms of compromised safety with its use settled. So we thought. Canada has now decided to proceed with caution, and require more data from the pharmaceutical company, and that it place the vaccine through more tests with all age groups. Its tests evidently from stage one to three, did not include an elderly demographic. Which convinced Canadian health authorities not to authorize it for vaccinating the elderly.

But now, that same medical group is withdrawing its authority to have the vaccine used for inoculations in Canada for those under 55 years of age. Which leaves a narrow spectrum of people -- aged between 56 and 69 for whom the health agency feels the AstraZeneca vaccine is safe to use. Up to this point it has been used to vaccinate quite a few Canadians under the age of 70. Of those, no cases have emerged of blood clots that anyone might want to link to the vaccine. An abundance of caution is what the public is told.

This is the same public awaiting the opportunity to receive their first dose of vaccine while the country is struggling with variants heading up a third wave of COVID, leaving area hospitals swamped, and too many patients in ICUs, along with too many funerals following too many deaths from COVID-19. Taking one of the available vaccines out of use on fears that 1 in 100,000 people may develop blood clots ostensibly because of the vaccine, when the pathogen itself creates blood clots on a far greater scale, is puzzling beyond belief.

It's something we discussed this afternoon when we were out in the ravine with Jackie and Jillie, and a young man of our acquaintance walked alongside us for the entire circuit. It's been a beautiful day, the only thing in common with yesterday's cold, icy-wind day being the presence of the sun. We had done our weekly grocery shopping in the early morning, and I spent a bit of time beginning spring cleaning, starting with the kitchen pantry, but the day beckoned and off we went.

The weather prediction for tomorrow is 90% chance of rain, yet again. And cooler than today's moderate 15C, so it won't be a pleasant day, and we may not be able to get out for our afternoon hike again, either. Which meant we'd better enjoy what we had while we had it. Because it was much milder today than yesterday the threat posed by fast-frozen icy trails having to be negotiated was no longer a problem. But there's always something, in spring.

The trails are less gripped in ice, it's all melting, to our relief, but in its place is the obviously expected muck, resulting from the saturated forest floor yielding to snowmelt and milder temperatures and making for situations where our boots sink deeply in mud. Although we originally dressed Jackie and Jillie with little rubber boots to protect their tiny paws against extreme winter cold and ice conditions, now those same boots are useful in keeping their feet dry and comfortable. 

 

We've enjoyed making pizza on Saturday night together for years. A kind of ritual between us. Enjoyable in the preparation, and anticipatory in the consumption of the pizzas that contain some basic toppings that we enjoy. We're big on tomatoes, mushrooms, bell pepper and mozzarella cheese with Parmesan sprinkled over. Sometimes adding pepperoni, or smoked mussels or anchovies. I always prepare the dough a day ahead, when I'm busy in the kitchen baking anyway. 

Just lately we started looking around for something else for a change for Saturday night treats. Not that we don't appreciate pizza; we were alternating between pizza and panzerotto. It occurred to us we haven't had tacos in quite a while. About as long as our younger son's absence, because it's one of the dishes he enjoys preparing when he visits with us. Those visits suspended from British Columbia to Ontario during this time of the coronavirus pandemic.

So we bought some floppy tortillas and black beans. And began making tacos for a change. Spreading tomato paste on the warmed tacos, then lightly fried garlic and onion and chopped bell pepper. A pile of black beans on each shell, then the garlic/onion/pepper followed by grated old cheddar cheese. Folded and baked until everything is hot and the cheese melted. With a small fresh vegetable salad and grapes for dessert, it makes a pleasant and satisfying meal.

Yesterday's all-day heavy rain kept us indoors for the day. The rain was so heavy at times even Jackie balked at going out to the backyard even when one of us accompanied him. During one of these forays I stood in the rain, and both puppies stood under the deck on the patio stones where it was nice and dry but they adamantly refused to do anything. They went from noon to five in the evening before they'd agree it was time to relax their full bladders.

Today dawned clear and cold. Really cold and windy, despite the full sun. As usual when it was my turn to accompany them outside I moseyed about the garden hopeful I'd see something exciting. As if. It's just much too early here. I did see that the corkscrew hazel is sporting its catkins, but not much else. Japanese spurge is green and crisp and a few other rock garden plants are coming back to life, but it'll be a while before things begin to fill in.

In the afternoon, after house-cleaning was done with we went out for our  hike through the ravine's trails. We knew that there would still be some remaining snow and ice. And we knew also that because of the icy temperature whatever remained of the snow and ice would be frozen solid and slippery. And we were right. Even with our cleats there were areas going downhill that were pretty dicey, so we took our time and wherever we could evade the ice, we did.

We saw none of the regular hikers, though we did see separately, one young woman gingerly treading the ice with running shoes and slipping now and again with whom we exchanged a few mutually sympathetic comments. And there was also a boy and a girl, a pair in their late teens. Both were wearing winter jackets, but his legs were bare and it just left us shaking our heads internally. They were going in the reverse direction to us, so that the area we had just descended, they began to ascend.

When we reached the top of yet another long hill and looked down, we could see they had abandoned the intention to mount the hill we'd come down from, and began to return in the direction they had originally come from. His silly choice of shorts on such a day remedied by the sensible decision not to challenge a slippery slope.

So far, for both of us the aftereffects of our first dose of the Pfizer anti-COVID vaccine has brought us to a feeling of being tired, and the likely unavoidable muscular ache where the intermuscular inoculation had taken place, but otherwise we're fine. Nice to have no complaints in view of the fact that many other people have experienced far more intrusive side-effects. I wasn't able to sleep on my left side last night, but otherwise we were so bushed we had no trouble sleeping in late this morning.

Yesterday when I was preparing the choux for the chocolate eclairs I meant to serve for dessert at dinnertime, I needed to exert quite a bit of muscle-power, mixing-and-cooking the wet-and-dry ingredients, adding the eggs, to produce the smooth and glossy batter required. It is hard work, though I continue to prefer mixing my baking ingredients by hand. I did use an electric mixer later when I beat up the whipped cream to fill the eclairs, however. A bit of fussing around, but it's like a puzzle and putting all the pieces together; the last part of which is melting baking chocolate to dip the tops of the eclairs in before filling them with whipped cream.

While I was at it, I decided to prepare the chicken in sauce a little differently this time, using chicken breast cut into cubes (while still frozen) rather than the deboned, skinned chicken thighs I usually use for the dish. And instead of mushrooms I substituted chopped red pepper, along with carrots in making the sauce, and it turned out to be quite flavourful. It passed the critical test when Irving approved the end result.

I had set aside some of the puffs once they had baked, rather than fill them all with whipped cream. It had occurred to me that the puffs would lend themselves nicely  to a somewhat different breakfast if they were filled with chopped boiled eggs, salt, pepper and a little mayonnaise. I ran the idea through to Irving and he thought it worth a try. So that's what he had at breakfast this morning.

Oh, and after dinner last night we had an unexpected guest. One we know has visited countless times before, but we hadn't spotted him. A juvenile raccoon who had doubtless come around last winter, perhaps with his mother (we'd seen small young raccoon cubs with their mothers at night on the porch in winter in previous years, seeking out the edible offerings Irving placed on the porch) last year. We hadn't meant to re-invite them since one of our neighbours had problems in his attic with wildlife, but there you are... 

After yesterday's all-day rain we speculated how much of the snow and ice would be left in the ravine. On Wednesday, the temperature had soared to 20C and full sun for an absolutely glorious day. Even at that temperature the ice on the trails remained thick in many places, and extremely slippery. Today's weather is an improvement over yesterday's cool, dark wet day, but only minus the rain. It was in fact, colder than we imagined it might be when we set out with Jackie and Jillie this afternoon for our daily hike.

A lot of snow and ice has receded. There are large stretches of forest where the floor is fully revealed, the snow completely gone. And others where it is obvious that it will take a lot more than several full days of rain interspersed with mild temperatures and full sun, to melt it all. We're edging fast past the 50/50 mark, however.

I was sorry that I thought I could dispense with a head band, the wind was cold and fierce enough to be uncomfortable. If Irving had noticed I had gone out without an ear covering he would have reminded me, and I would likely have spurned his advice, as I often tend to. He's far more sensible than I am. But he also feels cold more acutely than I do. 

Jackie and Jillie had one occasion only to do whatever it is dogs do to exchange gossip with one another, aside from sniffing the bountiful messages left by marking. We were out for an hour and a half in a protracted circuit, taking our time and it was obvious we weren't going to be bumping into hordes of other hikers this day, for with the exception of one other person and her dogs, no one else seemed to be anxious to enjoy a brisk tramp through the woods.

Ottawa health authorities and the municipal government is complaining that they're being overlooked while other parts of the province of Ontario are forging well ahead of the national capital in vaccinating their elderly residents. They point out that the average vaccination rate of those over 70 years of age in other parts of the province stands at 77 percent, while in Ottawa that number is just over 50 percent. The problem is that vaccine deliveries to Ottawa have been short-changed, they complain.

It's also the provincial health ministry that has been responsible for the software that has gone haywire to the effect that people qualified for registration appointments trying to arrange appointments online find the system disqualifying them through a glitch that won't accept their completed applications. Which is precisely what happened with us. And when Irving finally got through by telephone and made appointments for us, we discovered a week later that the software had erred in double-booking, so those who had succeeded in obtaining appointments had to go through the same process again, for new appointment dates.

Mid-week there was a report that people who showed up for their appointments should not have because of double-booking creating chaos and thousands of people had to be shuttle-bused to other locations to be inoculated. These are people in their 80s and above, who don't appreciate confusion in their lives, particularly with the stakes so high of serious complications with COVID-19, and the fact that the vast majority of deaths in the province occurred among those 80 and over.

So we, knowing our second-arranged appointment would be a few days' hence, were more than a little nervous when we set out this morning to arrive ten minutes before our appointments as instructed, to find the parking lot to the temporary injection site packed with vehicles, and people streaming toward the front of the location which just happened to be a YMCA re-purposed as an area vaccination centre.

Parking assistants were helpful. There was a doorman stationed under a rainshield prepared to admit people whose appointment times were imminent. Before you even got to the front entrance there was a man with a bullhorn circulating in the parking lot, calling out the 'next' time slots at which time people were to exit their vehicles and make for the front entrance. When we arrived at the front entrance we were informed that only those whose time slot was 9:58 could enter; ours was 10:05. So we waited.

It was a dark, dismal morning, pouring rain and cool. Inside the doors waited a young woman to direct people as they entered and channel them toward a series of desks with protective plastic shields. Another woman caught those entering to direct them to numbered kiosks where you were to present your Ontario health card and printed proof of your successful appointment application which had been emailed ahead.

Once the initial questioning was completed, health cards tucked away, we were directed to follow arrows along a corridor, there a young man directed us to a short set of stairs leading to a gymnasium. Within the gymnasium young men and women directed you to one of a number of fifteen desks, each manned by a young woman with a computer and hand sanitizer, wipes, filled syringes, and she was prepared to administer the vaccine after the series of questions repeated and health card requested.

Finally, it was done. We were both vaccinated, waited a short while on chairs set up around the perimeter of the room, then approached another set of desks with young people asking questions, finding your name on their computers and instructing that a 'receipt' of vaccination would be forwarded to you by email.

Done! At least the first dose. The rest to follow in four months' time, stretching out the vaccine numbers in Canada in a bid to inoculate as many people as possible, at least with the first dose. Because there's an acute shortage of vaccines by any pharmaceutical company.

Irving decided to stop by a local supermarket to pick up a carton of 35% cream so I could make some whipped cream as a desert to fill the cream puffs I planned to bake. Jackie and Jillie, beside themselves by our brief absence (and it was brief) were given special treats; they had already had their breakfast before we left, though we hadn't. 

So, as things turned out, it has been the great technological advances in computing, software and communications that have glitched. While the human element has surpassed expectations, everyone coached and prepared to do what they could to expedite the process. The  young people we saw discharging their duties were exemplary; in manner and performance and efficiency.

And because it's been raining heavily all day, no opportunity to get out for a ravine hike today. Jackie and Jillie have been filling in time watching a procession of squirrels visiting the front porch to stuff their little faces on a miserable weather day.

We're not yet prepared to surrender the comforts of winter. As in exchanging the comforter on our bed for a lighter cover. It's just too comfortable, given that the night-time temperatures still bear little resemblance to the moderating highs of the afternoon. We enjoy feeling snug and warm in bed throughout the night, and although I did suggest it was time to change over to spring bed coverings, the oppositional growl from Irving quickly persuaded me otherwise. For the time being.

Likewise with our meals. For the time being at least, we remain wedded to our enjoyment of comfort food. So last night we ate one of those really sturdy meals comprised of a beef stew heavy on onion, garlic, mushrooms, carrots and potatoes. Ladled over buckwheat groats, and green beans served on the side. With fresh strawberries for dessert. It all went down very well. Jackie and Jillie kindly offered to help us with the difficulties inherent in disposing of the meal.

It had rained all day yesterday. No let-up in the rain whatever. Not our puppies' favourite choice in weather. Jillie had to be continually persuaded that she had to empty her bladder at some point during the day. The prospect of rain falling on her, her tiny paws becoming wet is just too much for her to bear.

In the evening, there it was. That sound. To make certain that we'd heard it, Jackie barked warningly to bring our attention to the fact that we were experiencing the first thunderstorm of spring. In fact, there occurred a series of thunderstorms throughout the night, with heavy rain accompanying the fury of the thunderclaps, the emphasis of the lightning strikes. All of which we tend to enjoy.

We figured that the all-day rain topped by the thunderstorms would certainly finish off the snow in the backyard and front gardens. And it almost did. Snow remains, but a tremendous amount of the snowpack has now disappeared. We can see tulips beginning to emerge from the newly-liberated garden soil, and even lilies. The corkscrew hazel in the backyard is drooping with catkins. Climbing rose canes are turning green. 

It surely won't take but a week or so for the rest to depart. And then I'll be squinting carefully at the ground, at shrubs and trees to spot the first signs of return to life. Now and again a flock of geese will call down from above as they make their return migration. Irving heard a song sparrow yesterday, so they're returning.

We anticipated that conditions in the ravine would be emphatically heading toward spring. We hadn't been out yesterday because of the rain. We weren't surprised to see how much snow had melted. On the trails leading into the ravine the snow that had covered the ice buildup over winter had melted, leaving only the ice, so it's tricky ascending and descending the hills; it is a ravine, after all. That trickiness is the primary reason that we saw few others out on the trails.

The other reason is the messiness, great standing pools of water, slush, mud and a singular gaunt unattractiveness of an early-spring landscape. Everything looks dark and sere and will continue to appear that way until new life begins to appear, along with wildflowers and foliage. There are for the time being large puddles appearing here and there on the plateau portions of the forest, while on the slopes of the hillsides meltwater flows steadily downhill and ultimately into the ravine's creek, now thrashing and boiling away with runoff.

Yet it's amazing how quickly the thick snowpack surrenders to the change in season. And it's equally amazing how thirstily the forest floor absorbs the melted snow. Gratifyingly for committed hikers it's also surprising how quickly the morass of muck dries out under the influence of the spring sun and milder temperatures, taking us steadily deeper into spring.

Today is the day we had originally made appointments for our first anti-COVID inoculations. Until we read in the newspaper this past Monday that the automated bookings for March 23, 24 and 25 had seen a problem arise through double bookings. The article advised people to call the provincial number contact to correct the situation. In that a new appointment had to be scheduled. So the rigmarole was repeated, waiting seemingly endlessly for a response on the other end, for the purpose of re-scheduling our appointments.

First off, it was the online registrations that had gone awry. Once the questionnaire had been completed with all your applicable data proving eligibility to enable registration, people trying that route were suddenly confronted by a blank screen with the tiny message: "tampered". When I read that I thought I had done something wrong in filling in the application, but no, this occurred to just about everyone trying to register online.

So we tried telephone booking and did an internal "hurray!" when we were given today's date for our vaccinations. Now that too had been messed up. Our new appointments are for Friday. In this morning's news, however, a report that thousands of people showing up as instructed for their appointments at a number of area vaccination sites, including the one we're to report to, found the situation repeating itself. Double booking again. Such that the city put out shuttle buses to reduce the waiting crowd and drive them to other sites. 

The kind of gross ineptitude that can only leave you shaking your head with dismay and wondering can't they get anything right? The province hasn't been able to inoculate more than fifty percent of over-80s, yet it's inviting people over 75 to begin to register for appointments. Demonstrating how best not to inspire confidence in government efficiency.

Adding to the gloom, an all-day rain. So it's dark in the house and it feels damp and cooler than it really is, and Jackie and Jillie may be bored, but they harbour no interest whatever in getting outdoors on a rainy day. I actually have to order Jillie to get out there and pee. She finds it horribly distasteful to get her tiny paws wet and will do just about anything to avoid wet grass. There's some snow left in the backyard and that she's not averse to settling on to relieve herself. Go figure.

But Spring has arrived and April is just around the corner. It's when, beyond my best intentions to ignore the inevitable, thoughts of spring cleaning come to mind. So I thought I'd start off with taking down and washing the window sheers. It's a drag, hauling them all down, removing the countless hooks, washing and drying the sheers, returning the hooks and re-hanging the sheers. Although our windows are covered with stained glass, in the summer months the heat of the sun is conveyed to the house interior by the stained glass and the sheers are drawn to prevent that. What works beautifully in winter, sees the reverse in summer.

Yesterday we had an especially long ravine hike, and it's just as well we did, since there was no opportunity today. Jackie and Jillie are mollified by the presentation of their usual after-hike bowl of fresh vegetables, but we acutely feel that something is missing from the day. 

 Yesterday we had a macaroni-and-cheese casserole for a change, with a fresh vegetable salad. It felt kind of springlike. I used whole-wheat pasta, and when I was preparing the choux, added marble cheddar, and lots of pepper and dry mustard. When it was done, I added sliced green onions and mixed it all into the cooked macaroni. Then I layered the pasta with frozen green peas atop which I spread canned pink salmon and the final top layer of pasta. Breadcrumbs and Parmesan cheese over the top, it was popped into the oven, and dinner was done.

It would never have occurred to us when we set off early this morning to do our grocery shopping that something dreadful could happen. The worst we encountered was that my husband forgot to take his wallet with. Fortunately he had stuffed enough cash into his back pocket out of habit, to pay for the groceries we bought, though he was concerned he might not have enough with him. We still filled up a bag with non-perishable food items for the Food Bank. And at the cash, discovered we had more than enough with us; it turned out to be a smaller-than-usual shopping, which I had anticipated even before we left the house, after a mental inventory of our pantry stock.

I cannot even imagine what it must be like for people living in Colorado where a gunman yesterday went hunting for Jews to slaughter. He had entered a kosher supermarket, one that advertises itself as such; otherwise an ordinary supermarket. But one that obviously attracts Jews. So his prey was clearly visible and the man, whom his family claims to be mentally unstable -- as so frequently crops up when Islamists go Jew-hunting -- succeeded in killing ten innocent people. His family, quick to excuse him on the basis of mental disturbance, obviously had no interest in knowing that he also collected weapons.

This was not, otherwise, a dark and dismal day for us as it most surely is for the bereaved families, for those who were injured in the atrocity, and those who escaped injury but whose life will have been forever changed resulting from the trauma they experienced knowing that as Jews they represent in the minds of fundamentally-hate-transfixed Islamists fair game for involuntary martyrdom.

Today, here in Ottawa, we had a balmy spring day to celebrate, with soaring temperatures, light breezes and sun's benevolent appearance, whenever it decided to part a light cloud cover. In short, setting aside horrible news from abroad, here we had the comfort, during this time of a global epidemic of a killer-virus, the relief and comfort of spring settling in and banishing reluctant winter's cantankerous decision to remain.

There are now widening areas of the ravine's forested slopes that have managed to shed their snow. We can see the start of catkins growing on the stems of hazelnut shrubs in the forest understory. We see the bright red of red osier dogwood stems standing out against the melting snow. There is still translucent-pale foliage hanging onto immature beech and ironwood trees.

In some flat areas of the forest the melting snow has formed great ponds of meltwater and there is an appearance of a swamp or wetland, the ground too saturated to absorb it all, and because it's flat it mostly retains the meltwater which doesn't run downhill into the creek, now raging with runoff from the surrounding hills of the ravine.

Jackie and Jillie are wonderful companions. They're even more intensely interested in their surroundings than we are understandably, being 'closer to nature', though we try to be observant, not to miss too much of the seasonal transition and its countless little scenarios of change. We just approach the process differently. They mostly with their ultra-sensitive noses, we with our exploring eyes.

 

Spring is anxious to let us know she's arrived. Right on schedule. To make certain we're aware, she tasked a flight of Canada geese to fly close over the house, calling down to us and we hailed them right back. In the backyard there remains ample snow left to melt. But given the temperature highs in the low double-digits these past few days, the days of high-packed snow in the backyard are numbered. The garden shed roofs have dutifully shed their impossibly lofty collection of the season's snow. I could swear I heard a sigh: 'free, free at last'!

Maybe that was me. As ridiculously precipitate as it is, when I venture out to the backyard with Jackie and Jillie I peer closely to the just-vacated areas of the garden where the snow has abandoned its hold, to see if anything is yet emerging from the soil. How likely is that, since the soil is still hard with penetrating frost? And yet, regardless, there are a few green spears poking through, so there!

Last night we had the usual winter fare for Sunday evening. Hot, flavourful soup thick with pulses, vegetables and a tomato base. And sesame-seed-infused, cheese-encrusted croissants to go with the soup. Irving smoothed some pate on his croissants, but they're so cheesy (I used marble Cheddar this time) they need nothing added for flavour, a perfect accompaniment to the soup. As the weather warms, however, the soup will have served its purpose, and I'll be moving on to other, more weather-appropriate meal offerings -- heavy on salads.

We set out in mid-afternoon for our ravine trek, wondering if, like yesterday, we'd encounter few others out, given the conditions now prevailing in the ravine. The trails ascending and descending the hills are treacherous for the uninitiated and most certainly so for any unwary enough to appear without cleats strapped over their boots. Besides which, a lot of people don't much favour the sloppy conditions of melting snow-mush revealing hard ice beneath and where everything has melted, the emergence of muddy conditions as the soil is exposed and becomes saturated.

Jackie plows through everything. Jillie delicately side-steps the flooded areas, the muddy portions and we make an effort to do the same. We came upon some chickadees and nuthatches keeping them company, but heard no crows or owls today. The creek is riding high and full, charging downstream spuming and churning up the leda clay forming its bed. Looking up through the forest canopy our eyes are soothed with the cool blue roof of the Earth, no clouds, no wind, no cares.