Our intention was, because today is our big house-cleaning day of the week -- and even though Irving does the vacuuming it takes me three to four hours to do everything else -- that we would take only a short circuit through the forest trails in the ravine this afternoon. Mind, we'd been out sporadically in the backyard now and again with Jackie and Jillie tootling around the garden, seeing what needed watering, or tying up, but most of the morning/afternoon was spent furniture and bric-a-brac dusting, dry-mopping hardwood floors, and hands-and-knees washing of tile and marble floors. 

A bit of misfortune when Irving was coming down the stairs after putting away the vacuum hose. Somehow, the pocket watch he held in his hand slipped and fell onto the marble floor of the foyer. They're delicate, these old pocket watches that he so values, and this one really bit the dust. Oh, it looked intact, but there was no more sweep of the second hand, telling the unfortunate story. These are the floors that he installed himself, years ago.

When we did get out to the ravine it was to a perfectly gorgeous day, not a cloud to disturb the serenity of a wide ocean of blue, the sun in its throne, warming the planet. The wind, can't forget the wind, it was robust enough, we thought, to help keep mosquitoes at bay which would surely have come out on this 22C=day. And it did, for the most part, until we stopped to talk to people we came across on the trails, hiking acquaintances we've known for a long time.

We're so accustomed to just automatically forging ahead from one trail to another that we completely forgot we'd agreed to a short circuit, and ended up instead on the usual long one. Hard to feel regret of any kind on such a perfect day. And then we came across a couple we've known for years but haven't seen in a long, long while. We thought perhaps they had moved away. He's a young, thin, dark-skinned Sri Lankan and she's a fully packed blond Anglophone, and they make a perfect couple, doting on their little beagle after the loss of their original two dogs.

We had wondered about them and they had wondered about us, not having seen us any more than we hadn't seen them in so long. A ready explanation; they come out usually around noon, and we do so in mid-afternoon. Though we were wrong about their having moved away, they soon will. They've bought a rural house, and her elderly father who is ailing is set to move in with them. He has always worked from home, as a techie and she, working for a bank, has been working from home since the coronavirus struck. Their corner house in a perfect location adjacent the ravine with its large pie-shaped lot is now for sale and they won't have to wait long to sell it in this hot housing market. Old acquaintances, they come and they go.

A few days ago, on Friday, there was an announcement from the office of the provincial premier to the effect that, given a larger supply of vaccine doses, the decision was made to move second doses up from their current four-month gap, and people 80 and over were advised in all the media, that from Monday, today, they could arrange to schedule an appointment for an earlier second dose. Irving set an alarm so he wouldn't sleep past eight, and on the dot called the number given out. No dice; connection wasn't possible.

 

He kept calling intermittently after that until, at nine, he just gave up. He had been placed on hold once, heard the message that 'someone will soon be with you', but the line went dead. Finally, around noon he was able to make contact to prepare to arrangement for an appointment for us. He was informed, however, that there were no doses available, that there was just enough for appointments already made, and most of those were for children from 12 to 17 years of age. Another screw-up, which has typified so much of the communication up to this point in doling out vaccines.

That did nothing to spoil the beauty of the day, thank heavens, though it did earn a shrug that said 'what else can  you expect during this time of stress and strain and official dysfunction'? We tamped down the irritation by appreciation of everything positive about what we do have. The most immediate thing to cheer us up is what comes to the eye, the aesthetic and satisfaction of looking around at the garden. Everything maturing as we move from mid- to late-spring, this last day of May,2021.