Searching about in my mental storage for chicken recipe alternatives for last night's dinner, it occurred to me that I could make something like a paella dish with chicken exclusively, leaving out any kinds of fish. The rice, I imagined, would be like a pilaf, but with lots of piquancy, colour, texture and taste. Irving loves rice, but he's also a fussy eater. I needn't have been concerned, he really enjoyed the rice packed with flavour from the garlic, onion, saffron, paprika and the vegetables. All of which, along with chicken thighs were simmered in chicken broth.

He raved about the rice, the seasoning that made it so delectable and ate lustily. And then, his recommendation. He urged me to consider preparing this dish more often, but, he thought, leave out the chicken and use fish. This is in the category of 'you can't win for losing'; on the other hand, it's a win.

It also occurred to me that since we were having a rice dish for our main course, it made little sense to have rice with our Friday-night chicken soup. I didn't want to make matzo-balls because that would be too heavy, as it were. And then I thought of something I haven't done in ages. Egg noodles. No, not the kind made with egg and flour, but just an egg, beaten until light, then drizzled into the boiling hot soup just before serving. As the egg swirls about in the hot soup, it transforms into a myriad of fine egg 'noodles'.

April is spring's rainy season, and the forecast was for rain again today. So we decided we'd go off to the ravine with Jackie and Jillie a little earlier than usual. We had some sun, and then clouds began gathering. No sun when we set off, so we decided it would be useful to be prepared for rain. Ever so prudently, Jackie and Jillie opted to wear their raincoats, too.

Because of all the rain we've received recently the trails in the forest are steeped in muck. Those that have been freed of snow and ice. Where ice prevails, it's soft enough that our cleats, which we're still using, grip well enough to keep us from slipping. We'd love to discard them after all this time, but for safety's sake, will have to keep wearing them for another week or two.

The disappearing ice, however, particularly on the forest slopes, makes it less strenuous and much less risky, to clamber up. We saw one tiny emerging green violet. But other than a few clumps of grass and tough ferns, there isn't much coming through. Whatever would like to has to counter the need to penetrate the deep frost still in command of the soil, and until it has thawed sufficiently we'll continue to see the drab surface of the forest floor steeped in mouldering fall foliage.

This morning, in the backyard, we heard a robin appealing to spring to warm the atmosphere up just a tad more. Robins are anxious to see the occasional earthworm; they've been patient for so long. And while we were in the forest we heard the spring song of a song sparrow. Cardinals trill a different chorus these days as soon as dawn's early light appears.

It was so pleasant, despite the threat of rain, despite the muck underfoot, that we agreed with Jackie and Jillie that a much longer circuit was in order today. Despite the extended length of time we remained out on the trails, we saw few people, and those few were regular trail hikers. On these few occasions Irving was tremendously popular with the canine folk who know him well and have certain expectations of  him.

They become excited enough in expectation that they momentarily and repeatedly 'forget' their civil manners. We both came away from this tramp in the woods with muddied jeans. Even Jackie's raincoat got mucked up, when one large and playful dog wiped its paws on the back of the raincoat. It's a raincoat after all, meant to repel moisture. Which it did, leaving a thick imprint of mud when it dried. That got washed too on our return home.

While we were out we came across another forest offering by some local wit. Back in the early fall someone had hung two purely decorative, brightly painted little birdhouses from tree branches. They managed to withstand all the rigours of winter intact. Now someone (could be the same person) hung another, much smaller offering in a different part of the forest. A whimsy good for a chuckle. This one is small enough to offer haven to a butterfly.

When we got home I hauled a stepstool up from the basement. Time to get serious about starting (gulp) spring cleaning. Kitchen first. And so another few cupboards got washed out and tidied up. The tidying is useful, but the wet soapy sponge was hardly needed. The shelves were clean before I began, but this is a ritual that will not be denied....