These are the summer days we can appreciate, not the too-hot, too-humid, too-windy and too-rainy ones that we tolerate out of the goodness of our hearts and because we do our object best not to complain too often to nature who works so hard to please us when it pleases her to do so. We had a somewhat coolish morning that warmed up to 24C by afternoon. The cool air and the warming sun invited Jackie and Jillie to hie themselves out to the deck and loll about in the sun for awhile.

And it was a perfect time to wander about the backyard, enjoying the\ fresh light kiss of the air on bare skin along with the warmth, not yet having the opportunity to turn the backyard into the heat-box it so closely resembles in the midst of summer. Jackie and Jillie content to wander in our wake, as long as we remained outdoors, so would they, but not a second longer.

Another busy day, doing household things on schedule and adding to them on the spur of the moment. After breakfast and our discussion of news events, Irving left the house to run a few errands and to get the oil changed in the car. The morning paper had given ample warning, as it has been doing lately, of the new B5 variant of Omicron that has cut a swath through Europe of sickness that the world could well do without. Yes, that's nature's work, too. And it's having a deleterious impact on area hospitals.

Among other things I thought I'd do was to finally 'bite the bullet' and polish silver flatware. Although we've had that set for at least fifty years, an heirloom boxed set with an incredible number of pieces, I haven't polished it for many years, and it's beginning to look neglected and tarnish is setting in. It's kind of ritualistic, that set because of its large pieces -- huge tablespoons perfect for slurping up chicken soup -- we use it for Friday night dinners.

Scrubbing about in the cleaning cupboard I could only find a small container of Silvo. But at some point I had also bought a powder solution you're supposed to use with boiling water, aluminum foil and patience. So I used it first, wasn't impressed and turned to the Silvo. Miserable work cleaning silver. Then Irving arrived back home and brought up a product from his workshop and it did the trick.

Then we were free to get ourselves and Jackie and Jillie out to the ravine. All but one of the laundry loads had been done by then, and I intended to do the ironing on our return. Something else that in modern society isn't often done; ironing. But I prefer cotton linen for bedsheets and they need ironing as do cotton garments.

Once again we were privileged to have the trails to ourselves and we deduced that people like us, wedded to daily jaunts through the ravine now prefer early morning hikes. We do as well, but usually only when the days are hot and humid, and today wasn't. It's restful being out there, serenely peaceful as we amble along the trails, puff up the ascents and lope the descents. Close to the creek we can see on its opposite bank the emergence of large-headed bright yellow Black-eyed Susans. 

Closer to our visual vantage points are the still-succession-blooming thimbleberries flaunting the beauty of their pink petals turning even brighter and transparent in the glare of the sun. These daily forays into the ravine bring balance and comfort to our lives and certainly benefit our two little dogs. Theirs is a ritual of anticipation in that when we're in the ravine they know they'll be given tiny cookie treats on our way through the trails.

And when we return home another ritual awaits that they're anxious not to miss; a freshly cut-up vegetable salad, their primary treat of the day, although they get another one after their evening meal. For them, nothing tops the vegetables prepared for them as special treats. Which still doesn't stop them from picking up twigs out on the trails to chew on, as I once, in my innocence, raw vegetable snacks  might.