In the flurry of activity when we return home from our weekly shopping expedition at the supermarket Jackie and Jillie are beside themselves with relief. Abandoned, but then the prodigals returned. And to make amends were generous in handing out treats. As in cauliflower florets and 'bacon' strips for doggies. Feelings sufficiently mollified, they watched the usual routine of unpacking groceries and putting them away where they belong. 

 A lot of groceries. Fruits, vegetables, the only foodstuffs two little dogs are interested in. Eventually everything gets tidied away, we all troop upstairs and the puppies lounge about on the bed, while we take our morning showers. A little late, true, but a restorative in this case. After which Jackie and Jillie obligingly eat their breakfast, and we ours. They had little bits of cantaloupe cut into their kibble, along with small cheese dice and chicken strips. Actually part of a breast of the Cornish game hen we had for dinner last night.

That was capped off by sharing a hard-boiled egg between them, chopped into little pieces. And then and only then were they satiated and prepared to take a long post-breakfast snooze. When I went out to the backyard with them later, there was bright blue little flowerheads of scilla in the garden, calling out to be noticed. In our garden they're the second bulbs to flower early in spring. Tulips are coming up but they're much slower and later to flower, and the daffodils as well.

The dwarf irises are already in bloom, have been for awhile, and next off will be the grape hyacinths. So although the garden looks pretty 'empty' its denizens are recovering their good humour as they emerge from winter's long sleep. It's how I felt this morning, just a little unprepared to meet the day, getting up earlier than usual to do the shopping before the supermarket gathered a crowd.

Irving got a call from Greg, the garrulous mechanic who works for the RCMP to keep their fleet in order, and who so kindly also does house visits on the side. We had seen him doing Mohindar's vehicles a few weeks ago and that reminded us ours too needed to have their winter ice tires removed and summer replacement put in place. He'd called when I had finished up the last of the kitchen cupboards in my spring-cleaning chaos, and Irving had completed his tax return. Mine to follow.

We were ready to embark on a ravine tramp with the puppies, and told Greg the vehicles would be moved from the garage to the driveway and the garage doors left open for him. And then off we went. By the time we returned later, he had arrived and had completed one of the vehicles. Irving stayed outside talking with him; they're both men who enjoy discussing any topic at all. 

In the ravine, there were the first tiny green shoots being extruded on the branches of a small privet sapling, the first we've seen developing. And the hazelnut shrubs are hanging out their catkins, just as our Corkscrew Hazel in the backyard is doing. 

Last night's heavy rain churned up some of the trails in the ravine and made evading the worst of the areas advisable. A cool, windy day, heavily overcast, with dark streaked clouds, but no more rain. The atmosphere felt freshly scrubbed, the air light and cool, drawn gratefully into our thirsty lungs. The odour that pervaded yesterday, of freshly manured arable land was absent today, courtesy of the rain.

We met up with no end of dogs out enjoying the day with their people. There's an ever-widening circle of dogs who make a beeline for Irving, now. Before we leave for our tramp through the forest he always checks his portable store of doggy biscuits to make certain he has enough to be prepared for the demand. By the time we complete our hike through the ravine, the store is usually depleted, so if we come across any of the same dogs again, Irving patiently explains to them: 'Sorry, no more left. 'Till next time!'