Today gave us one of those mornings that just yearned to please us everywhere we looked as we all ambled about the garden in early-morning comfort. No need to rush out to the ravine's forest this morning to beat the heat and humidity today, the heat spell has broken and today's high temperature wouldn't compete for discomfort with the past week's average of 30C.

So a slight breeze accompanying us, we poked about the garden before breakfast. Jackie and Jillie always race out before us, and often barking in excitement. Squirrels on the back fence? Bark! The smell of the raccoon who'd been by at some time? Bark-bark! A slight movement catching their eye of one of the tiny resident chipmunks? Bark-bark-bark! Birds singing in the trees? Oh, bark!

We remonstrate with them to no avail. Barky little dogs. And if one of the chipmunks just unfortunately happens to be about in the garden, riotous pandemonium, as they chase the little fellow, thankfully no match for his lightning speed. We've no way of knowing whether the chipmunk, like some squirrels, enjoys provoking our puppies, or whether the tiny creatures feel dread and fear at their presence. Sometimes they'll listen when I feel cross enough about their behaviour to demand they stop.

A few days back one of the little chipmunks streaking back and forth in the garden, J&J in hot pursuit, slide into my foot as he zipped by, having thrown our two little black monsters off by a feint that distracted them. They spend as much time in the front garden as the back. Irving had bags of soil stacked in a corner of the front patio and discovered that some of the bags had been bitten through; a bit of mischief.

We took ourselves off to the ravine for an afternoon circuit through the forest. I keep dressing in that old white, light-cotton outfit, baggy trousers and hooded baggy top that gives ample protection against the mosquitoes. It was cooler today for our hour-and-a-half venture through the trails. Some of the dogs that we see recognize us to the point where they'll come over to greet us. One big old lady lab we came across today almost pushed me off my feet. She likes to rub herself against my legs, one side then the other. It's the way she responds to being greeted. When she was still a puppy she had a habit of making a direct beeline to pass through between my legs in her excitement, almost toppling me.

Last night we had barbecued steaks for dinner. With Irving's special garlic bread he takes such care to prepare. And steamed broccoli, cucumbers and tomatoes, followed by segmented clementines to clean our palates. We don't have steaks often because we don't eat meat often, but summer and barbecue and steak seem to bring out the caveman carnivore in men. It's not easy to find small steaks, though he always chooses the smallest he can find. It's an awful waste, because neither of us can put away more than half; we should really only prepare one between us.

Today, I'm making dinner. I've used a pint of blueberries to make a blueberry crisp, rolled out dough for cheese-sesame-seed croissants, and I'm cooking a fish chowder for dinner. Complementing the 24C we're enjoying.

There was a surprise waiting for me when we'd returned from our hike before I got busy in the kitchen. An old rose shrub that I'd planted heaven-knows-when, which had never produced a bloom, suddenly did, a deep vermilion, quite different from all the other roses currently in bloom. I had looked for buds, and discovered that something had been nibbling at the tops of the stalks of this rose...which has produced anyway.

As for the other roses, they're surpassing all expectations, far more vigorous and productive this year than most for some reason that escapes me. More clematis vines than the earliest-blooming one with the huge, sumptuous flowers I so much admire, are beginning to bloom. Again, for some reason that eludes us, this is turning out to be a great blooming year for perennials.