The house was vibrating with brilliant light this morning when we awakened, the ascendant sun gleaming through the front of the house so that I was certain at first we'd left lights on when we went to bed last night. The other result of all that illumination was the warmth that poured through our large windows with the light which made for a very comfortable interior to our house today.

Jackie and Jillie could smell French toast and they were excited through their own breakfast, gobbling it up then chasing one another upstairs and down anticipating their little bowls of cubed French toast when we sat down for our own breakfast. They offered to help in the preparation, standing beside me as I flipped the toast in the frypan, transferring it to a warming bowl, then proceeding with the rest. It's a regular Sunday-morning breakfast, hot and buttery, though they get theirs served without maple syrup.

Irving went out to run a few errands after breakfast. He had a book waiting for him at our library branch, one by Thomas Sowell that he was anxious to read. While he was out he picked up a Toronto Star with its New York Times insert for me because the two newspapers we subscribe to, one local, the other a national paper, just don't publish on Sunday. They can be accessed online, but it's hardly worth the bother since they don't seem to bother updating their content constantly the way the BBC does. Still, they consider themselves daily papers.

We did a bit of an inventory of the gardens front and back this morning. Most of the annuals with the exception of the ipomea, have fared well to date, looking moderately fresh and bright. And as long as they do, I hesitate to end their lives just because winter will. Perversely enough, the backyard which has a much warmer microclimate than the front of the house has seen the same annuals that still flourish in the front, look pretty exhausted in the back. I'll be tackling them first.

The thing is, as soon as I can get the garden beds and borders clear of the presence of these sad disposables, I'll have a way clear to finally planting all the spring-blooming bulbs awaiting my attention. So I'm quite anxious to get a final handle on all of that, and hoping that weather conditions will lend themselves to my gardening plan.

By the time we set off for the ravine this afternoon the presence of the sun had shifted to occasional appearances. Fluffy white clouds had moved in to occupy the wide blue yonder, and by the time we returned from our hike through the ravine, a much lower ceiling of dusty-grey clouds began arguing with the the marshmallow-white ones ... the upstarts!

It was a pleasant walk on a pleasant day of 10C, with little wind to speak of, the air feeling nicely warmed by the disappearing sun. Each day we go out to the forest we can notice a diminishing leaf mass on the forest canopy, although there's yet plenty to tumble to the forest floor before fall is over. It's become easier for Jackie and Jillie to see through the forest at the presence of squirrels busying themselves acquiring forage for storage.

 

When we arrived back at the house, the fragrance of simmering soup greeted us. Before we left I had prepared soup for this evening's dinner. Starting out with a dried-bean mixture, chopped garlic, onion, fennel and cumin seeds, and masala, adding chopped carrot and tomatoes, tomato paste, salt and pepper, and left it to cook itself into a palatable stomach-warmer. With plans on our return to bake a sesame-seed and grated sharp cheddar bread dough as a flat bread topped with rosemary and Parmesan over olive oil.