A quiet day, a sleep-in day, but that's what week-ends are for, after all, even for people who don't have to contemplate the week-ends' too-soon end and having to focus on an impending workday in the paid workforce. A long, languid breakfast after the flurry of cutting up a melon, peeling bananas, dipping challah in egg/milk for French toast, and offering up breakfast to two little dogs.

 

Sitting companionably at the table in the breakfast room overlooking the backyard deck and beyond it the garden, catching glimpses of the trees, hearing robins and a cardinal singing, speaking softly, laughing at the begging antics of Jackie and Jillie, reading the newspapers. Bliss by any other description.

 

Jillie had an upset stomach so she kept asking to go out. Once in the backyard she heads directly to the bottom of the rock garden where her very most favourite tree stands. A dwarf Alberta spruce whose needles for some peculiar reason she regards as an antidote for upset stomach. She pulls off needles and munches them. Jackie on occasion does the same thing, but not often; he prefers grass, though there's scant little of it around that fits the bill yet.

 

 

After breakfast Irving went out to sweep up the detritus on the porch and the walkways. The amount of dirt, peanut bits, twigs and other organic matter that collects on the porch in the space of a day or two is downright unbelievable, thanks to the regular traffic of wildlife. I've been assured that feeding them is quickly coming to an end. Which is to say, as soon as the last 50-lb. bag of peanuts has been exhausted. After all, once spring has arrived wildlife need no assists in grazing for food.

 

We do enjoy watching the squirrels, chipmunks, raccoons and rabbits come around to delectate over the offerings. But really, enough is enough. Mind, beautiful little Pepe le Peu was by last night and it was a delight to watch his delicate manoeuvres. But discreetly, ensuring he isn't disturbed.

 

 

We've a cool day today forecasting for rain. We had an interval of sun before the rain arrived, and it didn't stick around for too long. What it left, however, was grey-streaked skies and a nasty wind. So rainjackets were in order today once again, just in case we got caught out in the rain while in the woods. No leafy canopy yet to shelter us from most of a light rainfall. 

 

The trails are beyond mere muddy. They resemble a battlefield between the elements of winter on one hand and spring's on the other. Spring is winning the conflict through sheer attrition and it's obvious there's hard feelings between the two warring seasons. Some areas of the forest trails look as though a tracked vehicle has been through, leaving deep, muddy ruts. Spring trenches. 

 

Even Jackie and Jillie make an effort to avoid them, wending their way carefully around the edges to escape sinking into the muck. We saw a few other people out, not many. Obviously the community has a mind to avoid the discomfort of a wind nasty enough to penetrate the forest and a too-cool early spring day where boots sink deep in muck. 

Soon after we returned  home we had a guest quite unexpectedly. More accustomed to nocturnal visits than daytime, but there was Fatty Rascoon on the porch in broad daylight. Eating peanuts, of course. The squirrels were beside themselves with outrage. Chattering at Fatty from the branches of trees, warning him to decamp -- or else.

 

Irving opened the door, Fatty removed himself slightly to wait under the garden bench until fresh offerings of biscuits meant specifically for the raccoons were distributed on the porch, then resumed his position at porch central to munch contentedly away. When a black squirrel ventured close, Fatty didn't mind, but the squirrel didn't trust him and scampered off, back into the trees.