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.