Irving has been looking for a replacement kitchen-faucet set for a while. The last set he installed about seven years ago was the worst we've ever had. Nothing was right about it. The previous set had lasted about a dozen years, a premium tap set guaranteed for 'life'. It had a built-in water purifier, was pretty pricey and we had a hell of a time securing replacement filters. The one that replaced it when it finally gave up the ghost is the one we currently have on the sink.

It's so poorly operational that finding just the right spot between hot and cold is well nigh impossible. You get either cold or hot; adjustments in between are beyond difficult to switch to. The top handle also keeps coming loose and we're afraid that one day it'll just fly off. Irving tightens the damn thing and it's fine, but it only lasts for a week and then it's sliding all over the place again. Moving the faucet head from one sink to the other in a double-sink duo, is a labour unto itself.

So he did some shopping this morning and came home with a new set. Half price sale (I shudder at those half-price sales; does it mean the product is so dismal they're trying to rid themselves of stock?) reduced the cost to $150. A product by a well-known manufacturer. I asked him to see about getting a plumber to install it; I don't relish the thought of him struggling under the sink to install the damn thing, but no, he'll do the work himself as he always does.

Good thing it's a beautiful day of steadily warming temperatures, light breezes and an ocean of blue. That golden orb rules the sky today casting its brilliance and warmth throughout our landscape. As usual I was out with Jackie and Jillie in the backyard to do an inventory check on what's coming up in the gardens. Kind of silly to do this every day, but every day has its own rewards.

Earlier in the day, another fencing company representative had been by, with our neighbour guiding him around, to estimate the work involved and the eventual cost of replacement of our 30-year-old fencing. It'll be a difficult proposition, even though our backyard is small, unlike that of our neighbour's, easily double the size of ours. Which means there's less room to manoeuvre about.

By the time we got around to convincing Jackie and Jillie that yes, no kidding, we're going off to the ravine, the temperature had reached 16C, and the sun wasn't playing second fiddle to clouds, nor would it for the remainder of the day. So, off we went. Light cotton jackets for us, but the puppies no longer have any need of doggie sweaters, it's just so dog-amenable, is this spring weather...

All creatures large and small are beside themselves with the pleasure of spring. There were chipping sparrows flitting about over and around the creek today. We haven't seen them since last summer. And the unmistakable sound of bluejays ringing through the forest, an old familiar musical refrain that we don't come across often in Eastern Ontario, but were very familiar to us years back in Southern Ontario. Their sharp peals advising that they're around were loud and distinct.

As we walked on a lower trail alongside the creek, we strolled into gentle clouds of May flies, swirling around us. Signs of spring are everywhere, from every corner and manifesting through the presence of birds and the occasional sighting of Mourning Cloaks. Before long they'll be joined by Dragonflies and by (shudder) blackflies and mosquitoes. The standing water rain pools on the forest floor refuse to dry up and they're the perfect incubation medium for mosquito larvae.

Today, like almost every other day we've been tramping through the ravine, we came across the emergence of tender ferns, horsetails and False Solomon's Seal, preparing to flesh out the bracken on the forest floor. We also came across the first emerging patch of wild ginger. Also foamflower. Vegetation growing apace!

It's the flowering of Trout lilies and of Trilliums that really please us, for their distinct little colourful flowers. The bright yellow heads of the lilies searching out the sun, and bashfully looking down at the ground, and the startling crimson of the purple trilliums catching the eye we walk by. Mesmerizing in their quiet beauty.