Pretty tired last night after a busy day. Guaranteed to sleep well. As long as we didn't turn on our left side to sleep. Most people choose their left arm to receive vaccinatons, and that's what we did, yesterday when we were given our annual 'extra-strength' flu shot at our local pharmacy. Up to two years ago we had our inoculations at our doctor's office. Doctors have made themselves fairly scarce during this pandemic, but you can always rely on pharmacists to offer their services.

Yet the clinic our family GP operates out of has the gall to send questionnaires electronically to their clientele from time to time asking: 'How're we doing?'. I responded to the first one, won't bother with the latest. They want to know if people are satisfied with telephone appointments. Not that long ago physicians insisted on seeing patients in person, explaining that they could only make a diagnosis and referral or prescribe a solution to a health problem by seeing someone directly.

How things have changed. Aside from a few storied general practitioners who make it known that they're ready, willing and able to serve people through personal appointments, our new generation of MDs quail at the very thought of exposing themselves to potential danger. Their specialty now is: seeing a patient but spending all their time through the appointment scrutinizing their computers; no more hands-on routines. The little medical procedures that once took place in a doctor's office no longer do (think stitches or lancing a boil); they make the call to send patients on to specialty clinics or to hospitals.

So we've both got sore upper arms now. A nuisance last night, but now in late afternoon barely noticeable. It didn't stop either of us from performing the functions we normally do. And for me that included among other household things, finishing up planting the bulbs I had set out to do yesterday. I completed the backyard before we went off to the ravine for our afternoon romp through the trails with Jackie and Jillie this afternoon, and when we returned home I planted the remainder of the bulbs in the front garden.

While we were out on the forest trails we met another puppy. Lately we've been coming across human babies and canine babies. First, there was a young mother sitting on one of the few park benches in flat areas above the ravine in the forest, beside her a carriage-type-stroller and a very interested-in-what's-going-on, bundled-up little 6-month-old whose eyes darted from Irving to me, as we chatted with his mother.

Then we met up with an old acquaintance walking her miniature schnauzer. We could hardly recognize him, he'd just come back from the groomer. And with them was a tiny black creature that resembled a fluff of busy hair, delighted at the presence of other dogs and people. A happy little fellow who at twelve weeks already was able to discern what it means when someone asks 'can I give them a cookie?'. The infant schnauzer leaped around and onto Irving, reaching all the way up past his ankles before falling back to the ground. His excited bark was hardly more than a squeak.

It was cold and windy, and even the sun shining through a reduced leaf canopy failed to warm the atmosphere. While I had been working in the sheltered back garden I wore only a light jacket and even so I felt warm. In the ravine I was glad I had changed to a heavier jacket and wore gloves, there was that much of a difference. Jackie and Jillie aren't absorbed in weather conditions. Nor do they mind that the trails remain pocked by muddy puddles; despite the depth of fallen foliage, the trails remain slick and deep in mud.

Truth is, neither do we. We're just glad the weather has relented for a few days enabling us to be out in comfort as long as we dress for comfort. And I'm grateful to have been able to work in the garden, even if the soil is still drenched. It won't be much longer before the soil will be frozen and impossible to dig into, so planting those bulbs was a priority. And they can take advantage to prepare themselves for winter and subsequent spring blooming, beginning with the week-end's rain. 

Last night's spaghetti dinner was just what the doctor ordered (ha!) to compensate for the cold, damp, windy day it was and to comfort us from the growing, now going, discomfort from that flu shot.